Northern Lights
by ChaosLydia
Summary: What was it about this boy that drew him in so easily? Turkey is going to find out. Turkey/Canada. This is apart of the Realms universe
1. Chapter 1

**I'm actually on a roll writing! What is this!?**

**I saw the pairing of Turkey/Canada in the Hetalia Kink Meme forms and I fell in love with the pairing. But there were no pairings of it on here. So I thought I would try my hand on it. I'm going to try and write the chapters at least once every 2 weeks, but between school and theatre, I can't promise anything.**

**Here is the first chapter of Northern Lights:**

Another damn world meeting. Turkey sighed, listening as the United States gave the most ridiculous closing speech about how the zombie apocalypse was on its way, and the world needed to prepare. What was the world coming to? Once mighty empires whose very names struck fear into the heart of the masses now bent to these new, upstart whelps who had the audacity to call themselves superpowers. Back when he was the Ottoman Empire…

That thought hurt. Turkey was getting old, sounding like his old friend the Roman Empire. Turkey had been lucky. Playing his cards right, he hadn't died like Rome and Germania and persevered on. But to what? To a life with little power where his fellow nation people tiptoed around him afraid to trigger an anger they had heard about from legends? To a lonely world where his only real friends were still hundreds of years younger than him? He shook off the thoughts. As America rambled on about how giant robots were necessary to fighting the zombies, Turkey deep down mused about death just to get relief from that annoying voice.

Finally, Germany closed the meeting, and the countries stretched and groaned out their relief to escape their stiff chairs. As Turkey scratched the back of his head and gathered up his papers, Egypt appeared at his side.

"Dinner?" Turkey asked receiving a head nod from his tired looking friend. Strolling down the hallway, Turkey glared at the back of Greece's head. The kid walked with a blushing Japan, who fussed over them holding hands in public. How did that stupid brat manage to get a respectable nation like Japan as a companion? Turkey fought back an audible moan.

"It's the cats," Egypt commented offhandedly.

"I swear you can read my mind," Turkey chuckled.

Suddenly, something slammed into Turkey. He stopped unphased and glanced forward. Nothing there.

"Ow…"

Looking down, he rolled his eyes. Oh great. It was America.

"Maple…"

A soft spoken America.

"Canada!" Egypt knelt beside him, "Are you alright?"

Canada? Oh yeah. The other America.

The Canadian lifted his eyes up, and Turkey stepped back as the air clung to his throat. Vibrant, violet eyes that seemed to hold the entirety of the Northern Lights met dark, chocolate ones. For the first time in years, Turkey was unsure what to say.

"Well don't help him up!" Egypt protested, pulling the young man to his feet.

Canada smiled uneasily at Turkey. Great, there was that fear. "It's alright," he spoke so softly, that Turkey leaned in to hear, "I wasn't watching where I was going. I didn't see him there."

"The guy is huge," Egypt smirked, finding the irony in the usually invisible's man's statement.

Shifting his bag slung on his shoulder, Canada said, "Pardon me, I have to run- Oh! Egypt. We're still meeting in two weeks, right?"

He nodded, "Yes, unless you need to switch to another day."

Canada shook his head, and Turkey noticed the young man's hair shifted hue slightly in the light, "No, I just need to pack accordingly. It's been awhile since I've been to Egypt. I'm looking forward to it."

"As am I," Egypt and Canada shook hands, "Until then."

"You too."

Before Turkey could speak, the blonde sprinted away. He rolled his eyes at how every situation since the fall of his empire slipped through his fingers. Glancing at Egypt, he raised an eyebrow at his glaring friend, "What?"

"You could have at least apologized. He's a very nice, young man. Kind with good manners, unlike you."

"Sorry," Turkey dropped his eyes to the floor unsure what else to say. Blinking, he spotted a wallet laying on the floor. Flipping it open, it read 'Matthew Williams: Canada.' A second chance.

Turkey flipped it closed and waved off Egypt, "I'm going to give this back. Meet you soon, okay? And stop looking at me like that! I'll apologize! Damn…"

Egypt shook his head with an accompanied eye roll and hustled to catch up with Greece and Japan.

Wandering the halls for several minutes, Turkey heard loud, annoying arguing coming from the meeting room. Peaking in the cracked open door, he saw England and France at each other's throats while America and—there he was!—Canada tried to pull their father figures apart.

Turkey started in silence and watched the Canadian. As a teenager, he heard tales from the North about the Northern Lights. Only once did the chance to see them come up when they had the world meeting at Russia's house. Every nation in the world paused and hurried outside to stare up into the abyss above them, peace and silence settling among them. Every splash of color took Turkey's breath away, electrifying him with a renew hope that there was more to this world than wars, falling cities, global warming, and what he once had. Peace.

Watching the Canadian, those eyes now filled with worry as France swung a fist at England, that same feeling stirred deep in Turkey once more. But why? In his long life, he had met millions of people, had hundreds of relationships, and never once had ever fathomed the possibility that there was a being on Earth like the man before him. Turkey pursed his lips, hating the feelings. No way would he be the Romantic nation that would fall for love at first sight— although attraction at first sight described the situation much better.

As the fight began to calm, England and France spat out their last insults and straightened their clothes, America and Canada released the breaths they held. Their father figures finally begrudgingly expressed their apologies to one another. Now was the time. Turkey rapped gently on the door, his stomach twisting as the family glanced at him, and he pushed open the door the rest of the way.

A moment of awkward silence fell among them before France spoke, "Hello Turkey. Do you need something?"

Licking his lips that he hadn't realized had become so dry, Turkey approached Canada and ignored the rest. They weren't important in this moment. In fact, he never thought the American was important to begin with. Holding out the wallet, Turkey spoke quietly through buttoned lips, "Here. You dropped this in the hallway."

"Eh!?" Canada's eyes widened and patted his back pocket to double check it was his wallet, "I didn't realize that I even dropped it. Thank you, Mr. Turkey." The young man beamed up to him, those damn eyes forcing the once Empire to falter his speech once more.

Watching the Canadian slide the wallet away into his bag, Turkey willed himself to speak, but no words came out. This was ridiculous! He was the Ottoman Empire! There was no way that some kid could do this to him. This kid—no man… something was off about him. He was too…something he couldn't put his finger on. Did he have magic like England? Shooting a glance at the bushy eyebrow nation, Turkey doubted it. His obviously got his beauty from France, though Turkey stopped pandering to France's urges centuries ago. It was something he couldn't quite put it finger on, bubbling frustration and anger deep in his core. Turkey hated not knowing.

America scoffed and rolled his eyes, draping his arm around Canada's shoulder, "Is that it? Well then time to eat! Come on Iggy! Francis! Mattie!" As he drug the Canadian away, France and England followed muttering their goodbyes to Turkey.

That was it? He chickened out that easily? Turkey gritted and spun around booming out, "CANADA!"

The family stop shocked at the action. Only a moment later England and France, knowing the wrath the Turk possessed, stepped in front of their colonies.

"I don't like your tone," England crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, "You can answer to us. What is it that you want?"

"My business isn't with you," the Turk growled back advancing a few steps, "I would like to speak with the Canadian."

"No. Not like that," France spoke calmly, though he bent his knees ready to spring in action, "You will not talk to my son with so much anger until-"

"Stop it!" Canada pulled away from America, stepping between England, France, and Turkey, "I'm an adult. I can address this myself."

England held up a protesting hand, but Canada turned away from him and smiled up to the Turk. Instantly, all the frustration seeped from him where he couldn't quite remember why he had gotten so angry in the first place. Canada nodded urging him to speak, "Yes?"

Turkey glanced over the young man's shoulder at the three observing nations, ready to release everything from tanks to atomic warfare on the Turk if he misspoke. Undeterred, Turkey returned his eyes back to the vibrant ones before him.

"I'm… sorry… for running into you earlier," he spoke softly, hoping that the others couldn't hear him, though knowing full well they could, "I hope I didn't hurt you."

Blinking for several moments, Turkey chuckled at the flares of pink that tainted the Canadian's white cheeks. Good. Turkey still had that effect on people. He wasn't too old yet!

Canada smiled wider, relief settling into his features, "It's alright. I'm sorry too! Like I said, I didn't see you. I guess I owe you, eh?"

"Eh!?" the four other nations gawked at the young man.

Turkey cocked his head, "For what?"

Canada shifted in his spot, nerves slipping into the edge of his features, "For potentially hurting you and for returning my wallet. I owe you, Mr.-"

"Just call me Turkey."

"Turkey," nodded the young man, "I'm indebted to you. How can I repay you?"

"I don't want your money."

"I'm not buying you off. I'm giving my thanks."

"I don't want it."

"But-"

America butted in, like usual, "Matt, let it go. He doesn't want it. Come on, we need to go eat before the next session." Turkey met America's eyes, exchanging quick glares. Obviously, America didn't appreciate his brother chatting up the big bad Turk.

Canada finally resolved himself and held out his hand, his soft grin full of thanks. Turkey eyed it for a moment before grasping the pale, smooth hand. His calloused fingers nearly wrapped the full width around the young man's palm, and suddenly, Turkey felt it: the same jolt that he experienced several minutes ago when he first truly looked into the eyes of the Canadian. The electric essence was uncanny to earlier, and he was at ease.

As their hands slid apart and the other nations drug the Canadian from the room, Turkey couldn't help but to wonder once more what about the young man was so damn intriguing. Looking to the floor, he frowned half hoping there would be a wallet waiting for him to retrieve it once again. Shaking of the feelings, he sauntered far behind the family towards the dining area. He was getting too old for this.

**Please Read and Review**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh wow! I didn't think that you guys would enjoy this pairing so much! This is awesome! I'm going to try and whip out as much as I can of this story while I have a few days off.**

**I'm glad someone caught on to the Canada/Egypt friendship post the Suez Canal incident. You got kudos cookies. Also to NitemareAi: YES! That was the meme I read too! This will have probably some similarities to it, but I'm trying my own spin. My Canada is slightly different that others and I have a firm view of him. It's a mix of my own influences and b. Alexander's in the story "Dear Canada"… which you all should read!**

**Can you find my shameless promotion of Wizard Wrock? When you read it, it's a great band!**

**Time to bring Matt up to speed. Later on, I'm going to start using human names. I have a clear progression in my mind on how they're used. Okay Enjoy!**

Canada wasn't sure why his parents had taken such a sudden interest in him for the last twenty minutes. Sure France noticed him, but usually the Frenchman was so busy that he rarely visited. England was lucky to see him. When he did notice the Canadian, he almost always called him 'Alfred' and launched into how ridiculous American politics were before Canada could stop and correct him. More than the parents, America was a little better. He knew he had a brother and could remember him when they were at world meetings. But Canada had a sneaking suspicion it was because he was usually referred to as 'The Other America,' and the U.S. took pride in that. Outside of those meetings, America never visited Canada unless he needed something.

Not that he minded too much. His brother didn't approve of the majority of Canada's friends calling them "Red Handed Commies!" Canada lost many hours of his life over America pushing his friend recommendations on him. Far more detrimental to the Canadian was the fact that his parent figures believed he was some figure of their imagination, and they constantly doted on America.

These reasons backed up why the Canadian experienced so much confusion at the moment. At their lunch table between meeting sessions, France and England sat on either side of Canada, ignoring the American trying to put in his two cents, and grilled the young man in a rapid fire of questions.

"What are your relations like with Turkey's country?"

"Do you have any alliances?"

"Does he owe you money?"

"Do you owe him money?"

"Did your relations with Egypt turn sour and now Turkey-"

"Has he molested you?"

"That's not relevant, you wine freak!"

"Think about his past."

"Blessed Victoria! Has he molested you!?"

Canada threw his hands over his ears, speaking louder than a gentle mumble, "What's with you two? I told you both the truth! I have normal relations as any other country. We haven't spoken in a couple years except our last meeting with our bosses and the incident today…. Well we went over that already!" Snatching up his fork, he dove into his Romaine salad, hoping that a full mouth signaled he was finished talking.

Luckily, after a quick worried exchange of glances, France and England allowed the subject to slip away. Within moments, they engulfed themselves into a heated argument with America why Eurovision was superior to American Idol.

Once again, Canada became forgotten and ironically, he appreciated it in this case. Chewing slower and more thoughtfully, he let his mind wander off. Why was it so important that he had such little relations with Turkey? Eyes trailing across the room to a distant table, he watched the Turk argue with Greece, their debate so heated that their faces were as crimson as Egypt and Japan's embarrassment.

Taking in his features for the first time, Canada noted the stubble. He envied men who had stubble or even a full beards; it was one aspect he didn't inherit from France. Canada would always be cursed with a baby face. Next, the tussled hair caught his eye. It looked coarse but soft, the hue of coffee with a touch of cream on it. Canada suddenly had an urge to touch it, but how odd would it be to cross the room just to feel his hair? He shook off the thought as his eyes slid down the Turk's solid jaw line. Canada adored tanned skin; probably because he was so pale. Though Turkey skin tone appeared a bit lighter than a lot of Turks, it still had a gorgeous caramel color that matched his dark chocolate eyes.

Suddenly, Turkey leaned back in his chair, exhausted from his argument and turned his head towards him. Canada stared back as their eyes met, neither one wanting to look away, Turkey still frowning from his fight. Feeling his cheeks warming up, Canada tried to calm his heart as it steadily grew louder and louder in his ears. Oh no. What if Turkey thought he was weird for just staring at him absently? This could be bad. Negative thoughts raced through his head, some ending in disapproval and others were World War III.

But the Turk's lips spread apart as a soft smile graced his features. Wow. When he smiled, Canada was struck on how truly handsome the man was; all the gruff, rough edges softened in that moment. The noise around them faded, the other countries and their problems suddenly were so unimportant. A sudden unknown jolt pulsed through his body as Canada fought every urge to get up and rush to talk to the Turk. Why did everyone make such a huge deal to be afraid of him? Sure he knew history, but people changed. England used to be a feared pirate, used opium to control china, killed mercilessly once he took his share of America, but no one held it against him anymore… except Spain. It was quite unfair to the Turk, one of the few great empires left from the older days. As the feelings began to settle as they continued to watch, Canada realized how much he truly wanted to learn from the mysterious man before him.

"Mattie, what do you think?"

Canada snapped his head back to his family, realizing they were all watching him. France and England followed the trail back to the Turk, their disapproval apparent.

"What do I think about what?"

America sighed, rolling his eyes, "You weren't even paying attention! Jeez… Which is better: American Idol or Eurovision?"

Why did it matter? But to appease them all, Canada quickly gathered up his bag and slid in, "Both are good." Turning, he hurried out of the dining hall. Lucky for him, the next session would be starting soon.

Flopping back in his seat in the meeting room, Canada popped his headphones in, turned on his favorite playlist on his Ipod, and began sketching in his notebook. No one ever called him anymore for his opinion, and Austria kept such organized notes that Canada could access them later. So he would usually just sketch and zone out the world the way they zoned out him. Not paying attention to those around him, he could tell in his peripheral vision that the other countries had resumed the meeting once more. Three more hours to kill…

After about twenty minutes in, a caramel hand slid a sheet of paper next to his notebook:

"_Hi."_

Startled, Canada looked up. In his music stupor, he never realized that Turkey had sat beside him on the right. They gazed at each other for several moments, taking in the same stirring feelings from earlier before Turkey reached back over and—he was left handed!—scribbled:

"_What are you listening to?"_

Matt smirked and tilted his head down, hoping it would hide the growing blush there. Taking up his pen, he responded:

"_Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls. But pretty much anything that's not my brother."_

Turkey chuckled. He actually chuckled, and Canada felt his heart lift a little. Maybe they could be friends after all.

Reaching back over, Turkey continued their conversation:

"_I've never heard of them before, but I'm always open to hear anything that's not America. You don't seem to act like him at all."_

"_I'm not. We really have nothing in common other than the same parents. I love him, but he's an idiot."_

Canada waited for Turkey to respond, but the man stopped writing for a few minutes. Meeting his gaze, they stared at each other once again, Canada with slight worry and Turkey buttoned lip, thinking. The stalemate continued as Turkey touched the point of the pen on the paper, lifted it, put it back down, lifted it once more, and finally began writing once more:

"_I wouldn't mind finding more about how different you really are. Are you free after the meeting for a few drinks?"_

Canada blinked several times, rereading the line over and over again to make sure it was correct. No one had ever asked him out before, let alone wanted to know how different he was from America. Finally, he questioned:

"_Really?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Why?"_

"_For earlier. You said you owed me, but I 'm paying."_

"_That doesn't make sense."_

"_It does in my head."_

Canada paused again, watching those dark eyes for any sign of a trick. But only honest kindness shined back. After a moment or two of consideration, he scrolled his pen across the paper once again:

"_I have to run a quick errand beforehand. Would that be alright?"_

"_Of course."_

"_Okay then!"_ Canada took an extra few seconds to scribble in a smiling face.

Turkey smirked, and shook his head, starting a new conversation:

"_So tell me more about this Oliver Boyd person."_

**Read and Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, this is when I start taking some liberties on my Matt. I hope you enjoy this section, though **

**Turkey is giving me trouble. I'm not used to writing him so please let me know if some things start stepping outside of his character.**

**Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. It's much appreciated! Next week is my spring break so I'm hoping to get a lot written then. I'm shooting for at least three chapters, but we'll see!**

**WARNING! This chapter contains spoilers to _Fables_: Volume 2.**

**Enjoy Chapter 3!**

Flopping on a bench, Turkey grumbled as he dug through his bag. Stupid office, laptop, strap bag, whatever it was called thing! Egypt insisted that it would keep him organized, but every day it swallowed something new into its depths. Realizing it would have to be the hard way, Turkey growled as he pulled out every single object from the bag.

Where was it!? Chucking the bag to the ground, he gripped his hair and inhaled slowly. Think of calm, warm things. Fuzzy, relaxing crap. It was supposed to help him not be nervous, right? It was what India always told him to do to unwind. Mind blanking, Turkey patted his pockets. Since the positive karma wasn't striking him anytime soon, he turned to his second choice. One click of a lighter later, he was inhaling the sweet flavor of a Turkish cigarette, each puff unwinding his muscles a little more.

Turkey jostled his hair, trying to ruffle away his feelings. The great Ottoman Empire was nervous. Why had he asked the young Canadian out for drinks? What crazy impulse possessed him to think that it was a brilliant idea to try and woo Canada? Canada! Once a colony of France and England! Allah, they would shoot Turkey on the spot if they knew who their baby was going out with. But it was just a few drinks, right? Nothing wrong with that. They would talk politics, ask about each other's countries, tell a few jokes… right? Most importantly, why was he so nervous in the first place?

"What happened here?"

Turkey sat up, meeting the worried gaze of Canada. The young man had picked up his discarded bag, questioning the destruction of papers and folders scattered along the bench and ground.

He raised an eyebrow, "Did you get robbed?"

"No," Turkey snubbed out his cigarette on the ground as he stood, "I was looking for my mask."

"This mask?" Canada snatched up a book.

Sure enough, there was his mask wedged halfway between the pages. Turkey narrowed his eyes at it. Stupid thing making him look like an idiot. Stupid Germany making the no mask rule for the World Meetings.

"Thanks," he grumbled and picked it out of the book. Sliding it back on to cover his eyes, he relaxed some. But it only lasted a few seconds until he glanced to a frowning Canadian. Turkey raised an eyebrow, "What's that face for?"

Canada, caught in his staring, squatted down and began gathering papers that had blown off the bench. His voice was gentle, but curious, "I was wondering why you wore that mask. That's all."

Turkey could have broke into laughter at how simple he was, but held it in, "I always wear this mask! You know that!"

"I know. But why?"

Turkey frowned, turning away to help gather his tossed about papers. Why did he wear it? Ever since he was a young man, he had it. It was a defense, a wall, but he had donned it so long ago he couldn't remember the original reason he had put it on. It didn't matter! Who was this kid to even pry? Turning back to Canada, Turkey yanked the papers from his hands harder than he meant.

The young man jumped, startled, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't snoop! I was just curious is all. Sorry. I'm sorry."

Great, now Turkey felt like an asshole. Rolling his eyes, hidden behind the mask, he reached out and ruffled the Canadian's hair, "It's alright. It's not you. I'm just tired from the day." Great Aşure! His hair was soft. Could hair really feel that unreal? Fingers lingering an extra second in the golden strands, Turkey smirked down at him. So close now, he could see the details in the Canadian's features and in the setting sun, his violet eyes flared as if engulf in fire. Damn, did this kid know how incredible he looked?

"Turkey?"

The Turk snapped out of his stupor.

"Yes?"

Canada bounced on the balls of his feet with brimming excitement and motioned down the road, "If I'm going to run my errand, I need to leave before the store closes."

"Oh!" Turkey snatched up his bag and crammed the papers and book inside, not caring if they got wrinkled. Sliding up to the Canadian's side, he shot him a gentle smile, "Lead the way."

The two men walked together in mostly silence, every once and a while commenting on one of America's gaudy advertisements. Unlike most of his time with the other Eurasia nations, which consisted of Greece bickering with him and Egypt watching in silence, Turkey found himself enjoying this. It was simple and normal, two words that usually didn't describe his life. Every time the Canadian giggled at one of his offhand jokes, Turkey felt his steps float a little more. The kid's laugh was like some foreign sweet melody, soothing to the ears of a man marred from battles. It was then Turkey knew he wanted to hear that laughter more.

After about fifteen minutes, Canada finally stopped outside of a building with dark, tinted windows, his cheeks flashing even redder in the sunset. Shuffling around, he muttered, "You don't have to come in. I'll only be a minute." Before Turkey could answer, the young man vanished in the door.

Turkey blinked. What could be so embarrassing? Taking a moment to read the sign, and an extra moment to process the letters from English to Turkish, he tried not to burst into laughter.

It was a comic book store!? That was the big errand? Aw, cute kid!

Pushing open the door, Turkey stepped inside greeted by the scent of printed ink, paper, and pubescent boys. It was much brighter inside than he had expected, and he even spotted a few girls flipping through the pages of what looked like Batman. Spotting who he was looking for, Turkey smirked. The Canadian chatted pleasantly with the owner about the book he held. Both laughed as the owner pointed to a certain page. Canada's eyes lit up in excitement, studying the picture closely. Turkey snuck closer trying to catch parts of their conversation. He wanted to learn more, so he too could make the Canadian light up like that. It's not like he didn't have money; Turkey made a note to himself to buy a comic book store.

"-Snow White survives!?" Canada gasped, caressing his fingertips over a certain frame, "Aw, man Luke! I can't wait to see how! I read the spoilers and knew Goldilocks was the crazy bitch who shot her." He closed the comic and laid it on the counter to fish out his wallet.

Luke, the owner, chuckled, "Oh, it's good, Matt. That's why I love this series. Unlike a lot of other books, the author actually supports the rules of the world. By the way, it's good to see you again. Are you visiting Alfred?"

"Yep! It's good to see you too."

"Don't you have shops up in Canada?"

Canada nodded, "Oh we do, but I knew I would be in town this week, so I wanted to snag it while I could."

"_Fables_?" Turkey questioned plopping his chin on Canada's shoulder. The young man squealed in surprise, drawing attention from the whole store. His cheeks shifted to a dark crimson hue, richer than his maple leaf tie, and Turkey just laughed softly at him. Ruffling the young man's hair, he added, "So you like comics?"

Canada turned away and nodded his answer.

Raising an eyebrow, Luke pointed to Turkey and stared at Canada, "What's with the Phantom of the Opera?"

Stupid comic book asshole.

"He's my friend."

Turkey's ears perked up, looking to those addictive violet hues. He thought they were friends? Friends! Yes! Clear progress had been made. Stepping up to the counter, Turkey slapped his hand on the comic and smirked at Luke, "How much is this?"

"Eh!?" Canada gawked at him, "Wait. You don't have to buy it for me."

"I'm treating you tonight. Did you forget?"

"But, but, but just to drinks. I can pay for this, Tur-" Canada held back his last sentence almost forgetting they were around humans, and that he didn't know the Turk's human name.

It didn't matter. Turkey had stopped listening. Separating his Turkish money from his American, he pulled out a twenty and slapped his hand down once more, "That should be enough, right?"

Luke shot Canada one last glance to make sure it was okay before taking the money, "You want this in a bag, Matt?"

"Yes please…"

Snatching the purchase from the human, Turkey turned to Canada. "I have your bag!"

"And?"

The Turk frowned. The Canada didn't look happy. He sighed and held out the bag, "I was going to carry it for you."

"Oh?" Canada's lips slightly tugged upright at the corners in a coy fashion, "I see. Any reason why?"

"It's what _friends_ do!" Turkey held out his arm.

Unsure for a moment, Canada latched on and allowed himself to be escorted from the store, only pausing long enough to wave his goodbye to Luke.

Back on the streets, now lit up by the lamps, Canada suddenly tugged on Turkey's arm and stared up to him with a little grin, "So I like nerdy things."

"I see that."

"Is that alright?"

Turkey scoffed at the question, "Why wouldn't it be? Everyone likes something, right?"

The reaction wasn't what he expected. Canada just stared up at him, eyes big as if he had the world's largest realization. Suddenly he broke into laughter, happy, melodious laughter, and he clutched Turkey's arm tighter.

"Yes! Yes, you're right!" he practically sang from his overwhelming joy.

Infected by the energy, Turkey broke into laughter as well, "What's so funny?"

Calming, Canada shot the Turkey the sweetest smile to date, and damn was it worth it. Softly, he murmured, "Most people would make fun of me. It just made me really happy that you didn't. Thank you, Turkey."

Thank goodness he had done something right. Ruffling his hair and offering his arm once more, the Turk asked, "By most people, you mean your brother, right?"

"Yep," Canada slid a slender arm into the crook of Turkey's, "Of course it's totally okay for him to play video games and read Japan's manga. But I'm a nerd apparently. So, um, drinks?"

Leading the way once more, Turkey nodded, "Yes, drinks!"

**Read and Review**


	4. Chapter 4

**You guys are awesome! Have I told you that? You really are! I'm glad you like this pairing. You know what will make me write more? Fanart! I'm just kidding! (Maybe!)**

**NitemareAi: I totally used your line in your comment. I liked it!**

**I'm glad you guys like nerdy Canada. Some of his nerdiness will be essential to the plot later so I'm stoked it was received well.**

**Okay Chapter 4!**

Turkey flopped his head on the table, hitting a little harder than intended. Grimacing, he automatically sat back up and rubbed it with his palm. Canada burst into a fit of giggles nearly sliding out of his chair. Turkey chuckled too, having some difficulty remembering their evening.

Canada surprised him; the young man could hold his liquor… for the first few rounds of beer. They had talked about different things: launching into a huge conversation about how America annoyed them, Turkey recalling embarrassing tales of England and France's childhoods, and they chatted about the finer points of their countries like sports, food, and music. The entire conversation left the Turk feeling at ease, relaxed, and vulnerably open. Deep down he knew anything and everything he said to the Canadian could be used against him. But somehow, he had a hunch that Canada wouldn't rat him out like Greece or America or even his good friend Egypt would if the situation presented itself.

When they reached their fifth round of beer, Canada looked pretty sloshed, his body tilting slightly to the left. Turkey still had much of his wits about him, but he knew if he kept going, he would be pretty drunk.

"Okay, okay… okay, okay…" Canada mumbled to himself, his eyes half opened. Those smooth locks bounced with every head nod, a few strands sticking up from him running his fingers through it. Turkey smiled to himself, observing the other's soft features. The young man had a great complexion, his skin as soft as new snow. It was the same hue too. Cheeks still a bit pudgy, Turkey realized it was still left over baby fat. Canada's human age couldn't be older than twenty. Still so young.

Throwing out his hand, Turkey snagged one of those baby cheeks, pinching it gently, "Who are you talking to? Why do you keep saying 'okay?'"

"Ow!" Canada yelped and laughed at the same time, "I was confirming that I was pretty drunk. Okay, okay yes, yes, okay, yes I'm drunk!" Leaning back out of Turkey's grasps, he noticed the music change. Leaping up, he cried out, "I love this song! Turkey! Turkey, let's go dance!"

Turkey tried to pull his arm back from him, "No I don't dance, at least not to this stuff."

"But it's Lady Gaga. You know I'm supposedly dating her."

"What?"

Canada broke into another fit of giggles and released his captor. He began dancing in his spot. Turkey assumed under normal circumstances, Canada probably wouldn't have been swaying so much. But his eyes were fixed on the young man, watching his every move.

Quite a while ago, Canada's shirt had been untucked, and every time he rose up his arms, Turkey could see those hips seductively swirling towards him. Oh great Aşure! He wanted to touch them, drawl them close and grind into them. Feral urges and heat rose up in his gut, shooting back down to his loins. Feet moving on their own, Turkey rose up and firmly grasped Canada's thin waist, pulling them close. Chests touching, he lean in and nuzzled into the white skin on the neck, inhaling softly. Maple syrup, new books, and hard oak scents filled him as a quiet, throaty groan left his lips. Mind running away from him and clouding over, Turkey thought of the Canadian begging on his knees for him, whining, mewling under him with each thrust, every time their bodies twitched, both of them felt it, the sensation running rampant-

A heavy weight hit his chest, snapping Turkey from his thoughts. Panting, he glanced down at the passed out Canadian leaning on him.

"Oy! Hey! Canada!" Turkey shook him lightly, worry forcing out the last of the seductive thoughts. "Wake up! Come on. Wake up!"

Canada mumbled and slouched towards the floor.

"Nononono!" Turkey caught his arm and hauled him back up. Great. Just great. England, France, and America would kill him if they saw this.s

Shaking his head, Turkey knelt down and hefted Canada up on his back. Making sure he had their coats and the shopping bag with the newly bought comic, Turkey trudged out into the chilly New York City night. He headed towards the Marriot hotel where all the nations were staying. Ignoring the stares of the passing humans, he couldn't help but to smirk as the Canadian mumbled in his sleep.

"You better not throw up on me."

* * *

"Damn it!" Turkey swore on the elevator shifting the man on his back, "You're really heavy after all those blocks!" He hung his head, ignoring the soft breath brushing against his neck. In the silence, his thoughts kept drifting it back to the bar. It had been a very long time since he had those urges to conquer someone else. And it scared him. He thought he had buried those instincts down centuries ago, but apparently they were stirring once more. Fighting back the fear growing in his stomach, he shook his head, trying to force it out.

"Hmm…?"

Turkey glanced over his shoulder and smiled at the awake Canada staring back at him.

"Good morning."

Eyes darting around, Canada sat up and blinking, blearily. It was pretty obvious he was still drunk, but at least he was awake.

"Eh?" he mumbled, "Where are we?"

"Back at the hotel, in the elevator. Here, get down. You're heavy."

Sliding him off his back and taking a moment to make sure he was steady, Turkey stretched quickly before wrapping a secure arm around the Canadian's waist. He leaned heavily once again on the Turk but didn't pass out. With a cheery _Ding!_ the door slid open, and the pair slowly shuffled down the hallway.

Mumbling quieter than normal, Canada stared up to Turkey, "Where are we going?"

"My room is close. I was going to drop my stuff off so I can actually haul you around."

Canada hung his head, "I'm sorry. I'm being such a burden."

"Nope," Turkey pulled him up on his feet again, "It's what friends do."

"Friends…"

"Yep."

The last several minutes passed in silence, only Turkey's light cursing broke it as he fiddled with his hotel key. Stupid mechanized, robot doors. Only America would have robot doors… maybe Japan too. Guiding Canada inside, he helped the Canadian sit on the bed, turning away. Dropping his laptop bag by the desk, Turkey neatly folded his jacket over the chair. Double checking that he had his hotel room key, he turned back to his friend and froze.

Canada was curled up in his bed, hugging one of the pillows and completely passed out again. Turkey sighed and gave up, tossing his card key on the desk.

"Sure, kid, you can stay the night." he groaned. Strolling over to Canada, he stared down at him. The man really was adorable. Such a shame that no one else ever noticed him, because he seemed bright about political issues and had very good opinions on how to stop several global problems. Thankfully, none of those opinions included giant robots like America would suggest. Though, Turkey also saw it as a good thing. Less people who noticed Canada, less competition. He pursed his lips. It had been centuries since he had a companion or a romantic interlude. Was it what he truly wanted?

Easing down the covers, Turkey pulled off Canada's shoes and dropped them to the floor. He tugged the Canadian's tie off the rest of the way, before unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. There. Now if he moved around, he would be comfortable and could breathe. Turkey wasn't surprised that the skin showing through on Canada's chest was just as white as his face. Reaching out, the Turk trailed his finger down Canada's neck and rested them on his chest. It felt like he was stroking some of his best silk. His fingers jolted and he tugged his hand back.

That damned spark again. What was it? It drew Turkey in like a magnet, and he yearned to run his hands all over the blonde's body.

Shaking it off, Turkey hustled to the closet and tugged out the extra blankets and pillows. As he set up a pallet on the floor, his mind wandered back over the night. It had been fun. Quiet and simple, homey and quaint. He flopped back on the pillow, happy the floor wasn't too hard and stared up to Canada. He could barely see the long curl poking over the edge of the bed. Turkey chuckled. It was all too adorable.

Was he going soft or was this just a special circumstance? It was decided then. He would need to see the Canadian for more dates to actually decide. Within minutes, Turkey fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Canada groaned as his eyes fluttered open. He grimaced automatically as the sun shone in his eyes. A cold breeze filtered in, rustling his hair. He didn't remember opening his balcony door. The room smelt different from his room too. Inhaling the pillow he still was wrapped around, he smelt sandalwood, some sort of sweet scent like a baked dessert, and cigarette smoke. Wait. The smoke wasn't from the pillow.

Shooting up, Canada gazed through the open balcony door. Leaning on the railing outside and smoking, Turkey watched the newly falling November snow. His cigarette wafted in the breeze back into the room. Though he was already dressed for the day, Canada could see that the man wasn't wearing his mask. In the pale morning light, the flakes shimmered as they caught in his hair and shown bright on his tan skin.

At the noise, Turkey glanced back and smiled to Canada. Snubbing out the cigarette butt, he flicked it off the railing and stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.

"Good morning, sleepy. I hope you like coffee, but if not I have tea and something with the word chai in it," he chuckled.

Canada couldn't help but to grin back, "You got that line from a movie. That movie with the date doctor guy."

"You got me."

"Coffee, please."

Pouring a cup from his room coffee pot, Turkey handed it to Matt, "I'm glad you chose coffee, because I actually didn't have the other two."

Canada sipped it quietly, watching the Turk step into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Mind trailing back to the previous night, he couldn't help but to question it. When had he fallen asleep, in Turkey's room of all places? The last thing Canada could remember from the night before was drinking at the bar, though there was a brief image of standing in an elevator. How did he get here? Eyes trailing around the room, he noticed the pallet on the floor. Heat filled Canada's cheeks. Turkey slept on the floor and gave him the bed!? The gesture was more than kind, and he suddenly gained so much more respect for the Turk.

Slipping out of bed, taking a moment to place his cup on the bedside table, Canada shuffled over to the bathroom and stood in the doorway. "Um, um, thank you! You didn't have to do all of this, but I really do appreciate it."

Turkey spit out his toothpaste and wiped his mouth before turning to the Canadian, "It's really not a problem. You passed out before I got you to your room, so I figured you wouldn't mind too much."

"You should have just dumped my butt on the floor."

Turkey chuckled and reached out. Catching some of the Canadian's hair, he tucked a lock behind his ear lingering his fingers a few more moments. Once again, Canada tried to ignore the rising blush in his face as it spread to his ears.

"Canada," he murmured with the softest of smiles from those chocolate eyes, "I really don't mind. You're welcomed here anytime. I had a really good time last night."

"M-me too," replied Canada, locked on to his companion's face, "From what I remember of it that is." He could have cursed his heart throbbing so loud in his ears, fearing that the other could hear it.

Turkey smirked and stepped around him to his desk to gather his papers.

Retrieving his cup, Canada sipped it and watched. They would have meetings pretty soon, today being the day they met by regions. He would have to be the mediator between America, Cuba, Mexico, and the other South America and Caribbean countries. That thought gave him a headache, let alone the hangover he could feel rising in him.

Scooping up his shoes, Canada slid them on and draped his jacket over his arm. Stopping again, no words came. In this awkward situation, one that he had never been in before, what did someone say?

Fully dressed and packed for the day, Turkey turned to him, "You better get going if you want to be on time and not wearing yesterday's clothes. Though," he smirked, "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to pal around with me all day."

Canada felt a smile tug on his lips. Good. Turkey still wanted him around. Clearing his throat, he answered, "You know we can't do that."

"I know, but it was worth a shot."

"Turkey?"

"Hmm?"

The carpet suddenly became very interesting to the Canadian as he blurted out, "Let's hang out again! That is if you don't mind. If you do mind then I totally understand, but I had a good time last night and I would like to get to know you more. And I sort of owe you for taking such good care of me last night, and I hope I didn't annoy you, but I just want to-" A finger pressed up against his lips, and Canada gawked up to his friend.

Pulling back his hand, Turkey spoke gently, "I would like that. To see you again."

Canada could have sung his response, "Okay. Okay! Let's hang out again before the conference is over with."

"Alright. Now come on we're both going to be late!"

Glancing at the clock, Canada's eyes widened, "Eh!? Is it really that time? I have to go!"

"Hey," Turkey stopped him and held out Canada's laptop bag, "Your comic is in it with your tie. Now get going and save the world from that brother of yours."

"Okay. Thanks so much! See you." With a slight wave, Canada hurried out. Practically skipping down the hall, not even Alfred could ruin his day.

**Please read and review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**You want to know what's great about spring break? I can write! So two chapters up for the week! But on the flip side, I won't be updating for a little bit. I have a lot of papers due in the next two weeks so I won't be writing as much.**

**For those who are reading my other story _Vigilant_, It's going to be a bit before another update. That story takes so much out of me to sit and write. With Northern Lights, it's a bit easier to write. So thank you all for your patients with that.**

**As for the song Turkey and Canada dance to (hint hint for the chapter), you can hear it here (just connect the spaces). It's also my channel if you wish to subscribe:**

**http:// www. youtube. com/ watch?v=i8YWAbhY2Ds**

**and the full lyrics are here:**

**http:// realwizardrock. com/ more-bands/ oliver-boyd-and-the-remembralls/ back-for-the-fight/ the-hallows/**

**And off to the chapter!**

It was the last day of the World Summit, and Canada sulked over his breakfast. They had been so busy with the grind of all the meetings, he hadn't seen much of Turkey. Literally every time they had a free moment, they only exchanged a few words before someone came and drug one of them away. Like this morning. Turkey's meeting with the other European nations started earlier in the morning, so as they let out, he spotted Canada walking towards the cafeteria. The young man was pleasantly surprised as they met, but before he could really delve into a conversation, France looped his arm around the Canadian's waist. Whisking him away, his father rambled off about the different ways he wished to make love to England. Canada glanced over his shoulder to Turkey, who shot him an apologetic smirk.

Now he was stuck at the breakfast table ignoring the screams of his fathers and America. They debated about some global issue that Canada couldn't bring himself to care about. All the topics that invigorated him before seemed so dull now. The only thing that held any interest were those chocolate eyes, caramel skin, coarse tussled hair. He sighed, glancing back to his life. Three arguing family members, three people who only showed interest in him when it profited them, three people who forgot his existence almost all the time… or called him America or Alfred. Even America joked with him that he was the other America. That is if he noticed his twin. He usually looked through Canada.

Standing quickly, none of his family seeing him, Canada bussed his tray and strolled down the hall towards the final world meeting of the summit. All the countries would come together and share decisions made in their separate meetings. In other words, share how they came to no conclusions and argued the entire time. Honestly, was listening to each other truly so hard to do? He always hated the last meeting. It lasted forever! Six and a half hours with a lunch break. Canada could envision it now: everyone screaming, punching, biting, throwing objects, and he would just watch. Or he would doodle and listen to music. Either way, it would be a long day.

Unlike the last meeting, Canada wasn't going to be caught off guard. He watched the door, waiting. If Turkey sat with him again, things could actually be enjoyable. As the other countries filtered in, the hopeful smile on his lips faded. Where was the Eurasia nation? He couldn't save the seat beside him forever. Already he asked Lichtenstein to move and was almost shot by Switzerland when she started crying. Also, the confused stares from the other nations made him uncomfortable.

"Mattie?"

"What, Al?"

America raised his eyebrow staring at the empty seat. Suddenly a huge smile burst across his face as he plopped down, "You didn't have to save me a seat."

"Good! Because I didn't. Get up!" Canada snapped, glaring at him.

His brother smirked and raised an eyebrow, "Wait, so you saved it for someone else? Who? You don't have friends."

Canada leapt to his feet and poked his brother in the chest, "I do too have friends and before you spout off about their political choosings, get away from me! Just go sit near the head of the table where you always do."

"Jeez, who twisted your panties this morning?" America scoffed sauntering away.

Huffing, his curl bouncing, Canada slumped back down. Idiot. Stupid America. The world wasn't about him as much as Al thought it was. At least Matt's world wasn't about Alfred.

Suddenly, a huge weight landed on Matt, and all the air was squeezed from his body. Gasping, he tried to push it off as the tears sprung to his eyes. It was no use. Russia sat on him once again.

"Maple," he squeaked, "Someone… help…"

Russia must have landed on him just right. Unlike other times where he could normally squirm to a spot to breath, Canada couldn't drawl in any air. Six and a half hours of this. He was going to die, if he could die that is. At least he was starting to black out. The pain would pass and he could just sleep.

Faintly, he heard some yelling getting closer, before the weight was yanked off him. The air rushed back to his lungs, and Canada choked, sputtering. Strong, warm arms scooped him up and laid him out on the couch in the meeting room. Vision still coming to focus, he couldn't make out his savior, but he could hear the argument.

"But I didn't see Comrade Matvey. If I had-"

"You would have still sat on him you monster! How many times is this now!?" That voice was so familiar to the Canadian.

"Are you threatening my big brother!?"

"Drop the knife, Belarus. I've taken on far bigger countries than you, little girl."

"Little what!?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt felt a firm and comforting weight lay on his chest as the world was righting itself once more. Finally, he could pick voices out.

"There was no need to throw me on the table. KolKolKol."

Russia.

"Everyone please calm down and return to your seats so proper medical assistance can be distributed!"

Germany.

"You brute! Being so rough with my delicate son!"

France.

"It was an accident, Comrade Francis! Besides, there is still no need to throw me on a table. Or threaten my sister."

Russia again.

"Then tell her to put that damn knife down and maybe I'll be nicer!"

That voice. Canada's eyes flew open, his vision focusing on the one person who suddenly mattered. Turkey knelt beside him, though he was facing the rest of the world and not looking at him. The weight on the Canadian's chest was the Turk's hand, resting there, protecting him. At the moment, Turkey's glare was locked on Russia, who just smiled that fear inducing grin. Belarus was beside him, he butcher knife poised for action. The rest of the world crowded behind them, not really trying to help. Several countries urged on the fight. This had to stop. This was insane.

Reaching out, Matt brushed his fingertips across Turkey's jaw. The Eurasian nation snapped his head back automatically, all anger draining away to another emotion. Worry. The Turk was worried for him?

"Canada! Thank goodness you're okay! Canada, Canada, can you breathe?" Turkey's hand touched his cheek.

Canada smiled, tears brimming in his eyes, "I'm okay… I'm okay. Thank you. Thank you, Turkey. You keep saving me."

Turkey released the breath he had been holding as the smallest grin of relief broke across his features. Pulling the Canadian into his arms, he hugged his young friend close. Was he shaking?

"Turkey?"

"I walked in late and saw him on you like that. You were about to pass out and… and… I just acted without thinking," the Turk admitted pulling back from the hug, "I'm glad I came when I did."

"Me too!" Canada laughed before rising to his feet.

Another force smacked Canada's side as America tackled him away from Turkey, screaming in his ear, "MATTIE! I'm so glad you're alive! See, I should have sat by you, but no! You had to save a seat for someone else!"

England and France yanked the American off of him, and helped Canada to his feet again. Brushing him off, the Brit sighed, "Sorry, Matthew. We didn't act fast enough. I hope you're alright."

"Yes, I'm feeling better. Just a little sore."

Turning away from his family, Canada strode with his chin up to Russia and help out his hand, "No hard feelings, Ivan. I know it was an accident."

The Russian brightened to his most pleasant grin, "Of course, Matvey. I'm sorry too. I'll look next time, alright?"

"Please do."

A loud slam rang out as Germany dropped a pile of books on the table. Irritability seeping into his voice, he glared to the world, "Can we PLEASE get back to the meeting!?"

Canada spun back to Turkey, ready to ask him to sit with him, but America snagged his arm.

"Come on, Mattie! You're sitting with me so I can protect you!"

Trying to pull away and realizing that it was useless, Canada shuffled behind America and scowled. Glancing behind him, he saw Turkey and Russia spitting off a few more cold words before they took their seats. The Turk turned those beautiful eyes up to him and shot him a quick wink. Canada spun back forward to hide the red in his cheeks, though he swore he heard that sultry chuckle behind him.

About an hour later, Australia, who sat beside him, nudge Canada and handed him a note.

"It got passed down the table, mate," the Aussie whispered.

Canada raised an eyebrow. His country name was scrolled across it and his eyes widened. That penmanship! Unfolding it, he read:

"_Hey. Are you going to the Ball tonight? Lean forward and nod yes or no."_

Canada leaned in and glanced down the table. Turkey was already leaning in and looking to him. Biting his lip, Canada nodded eagerly. Throwing him a thumbs up, Turkey smirked and leaned back again.

Were they going to the Ball together? Suddenly, the meeting seemed to last longer than ever.

The last night of the world summit, the host nation would hold a Ball. During the time, it allowed the nations to casually talk, unwind, and enjoy each other's company. The time pushed away all politics, and for once, they were allowed to be people not countries. Canada hated the Ball ever since France insisted its creation a few years ago. No one ever paid attention to him or asked him to dance. But tonight was going to be different… or he hoped.

Later that night, the Ball started without a hitch. All the countries showed up in the latest fashions of their countries, prancing about as if it was a cat walk. Waiting in the corner in his nicest suit and sipping his punch, Canada watched the other nations enjoying their time together. All of them were laughing, many were dancing, but overall, they were having a better time than he was. Turkey had yet to show up, and it was getting late. Why had he asked Canada to come to the Ball if he wasn't even there yet?

As the song faded, the lights rose on a podium. America snatch up the microphone, "Hi everyone! I just wanted to thank you all for coming to New York City for the world summit. I hope you all had a wonderful time. Enjoy your last night here. Next summit will be in Berlin, Germany. See you all later! This is the last song!"

The last song. It was always reserved for nations who had someone to dance with. Though they were supposed to choose people who they wanted to have stronger relations with, most nations chose their friends or lovers: America and England, France and Seychelles (sometimes England), Germany and Italy, Finland and Sweden, Austria and Hungary. This was it. Where was he? Canada scanned the room, the crowd, all the doors… no Turkey. He didn't come. What did this mean? Was the Turk just leading him on, and this was the cruel way he was letting him down?

Dropping his punch into the trash can, Canada wiped his tear burning eyes. Such an idiot! He was such an idiot to actually think things would be different this time. No way could someone as great as Turkey could ever give a damn about an invisible nerd like him. Skirting around the edge of the dance floor, he shuffled towards the door.

The squeal rang out, and the world cringed, covering their ears. The noise died away and a soft guitar drawl echoed out. Canada knew this song.

Spinning around, he spotted Turkey, dressed in a suit with no mask. He was handing the D.J. some money. Crossing the dance floor, the other countries parted down the middle and hustled to the sides. All of them watched with curiosity as the Turk finally stood in front of Canada.

Holding out his hand, he smiled gently, "Sorry I'm late. Want to still dance with me?"

Canada swallowed hard, "Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls?"

"Yep," Turkey answered, "It's why I'm late. It wasn't easy to find." He raised an eyebrow, silently asking again for the dance.

Sliding his hand into the Turk's, Canada stepped onto the dance floor for the first time. Taking their positions in the center, he saw the world watching them.

Just as he was about to protest, Turkey shook his head and hushed him, "Don't pay them attention. It's just you and me now."

In the middle of the first verse, they broke into a foxtrot- slow, quick, quick- holding each other close. The light shown just them, the rest of the world fading out in the dark wings. Canada's view filled with those deep, chocolate eyes glimmering in the light.

"_I can't remember when I felt so lost and afraid._

_I believe in old magic. I believe in all that is good._

_I know that I can do this, if he believed that I could."_

The chorus broke and they pushed apart, Turkey throwing out his arm. Canada spun out, his eyes staying on his friend, before they pulled tight again. Chests touching, Turkey leaned in and nuzzled against his cheek against the silky blond locks. Canada giggled as his stubble caught his hair like a miniature comb, and he leaned back. Twisting, turning, they didn't fight for the lead through the second verse. They melded their different steps together, adjusted to their size differences. Turkey slipped in some of his eastern flair, while Canada felt Newfoundland rise in him, his screeching roots shining through. Every few steps, they would brush hands, sides, cheeks, just to acknowledge they still were partners, but would return to their nation's traditional steps.

Backing away from Turkey, Canada suddenly heard voices trickling in from the darkened edges:

"What's going on?"

"Why is America dancing with Turkey?"

"I'm right here! I'm not dancing with that masked creep!"

"Who is that?"

"It's Canada!"

"Why are Canada and Turkey dancing together?"

"Are they dating?"

"He better not be courting my son if he knows what's good for him!"

The heat rose in his cheeks, and he froze, realizing the world was still watching them, judging them.

A warm, calloused hands slipped around his waist while it's mate touched his cheek. Tilting his chin up, Canada gazed up to those eyes that energized him so much.

"_There's no going back now. I must start where this began…."_

Turkey frowned and whispered, "What is it?"

Canada gripped the Turk's shirt, whimpering back, "Everyone is staring at us!"

"No, Canada. They're seeing you. They're truly seeing you."

Canada's eyes grew wide as a soft, teary smile spread as well. God, he adored this man.

"_In Godric's Hallow I will find out_

_who I am."_

Step, quick, quick. Step, quick, quick, they pulled back into the foxtrot again. Turkey held Canada close, and the blond knew whenever those hands were around him, he was safe. Once again, they spun out, posing for an extra second, before drawing themselves close.

Canada slipped both his arms around Turkey's neck and laid his head on his chest. He listened to Turkey's heart, pounding just as hard as his. The brunette rested his chin on top of the Canadian's head, and held him close. Sandalwood, maple syrup, some sweet baked dessert, new books, Turkish cigarettes, and hard oak scents melted together. Perfect, Canada mused to himself. The music swelled around them in the last few repeats of the chorus as Christian Caldiera's voice swarmed around them in the final line. The last refrain died away and soon the guitar was silenced as well.

Soon, they would return to their houses, their countries, and be apart. Soon, the world would rush them, break them apart, and Canada knew he would get an earful from his family. Soon, his head would leave the Turk's chest. These last moments engrained themselves in his mind- the feel of his body, the scent, the heat- and Canada finally pulled back.

They stared at each other with gentle grins before they bowed low, showing their respect.

Turkey spoke first, "Thank you for the dance, Canada."

"And thank you, Turkey. This… this really meant a lot to me."

The lights flared up and applause sounded across the room. Surprised, Canada and Turkey spun and met the amazed faces of their fellow countries. Even England and France didn't look pissed (though they weren't pleased either).

Germany emerged from the crowd and stopped about ten feet away from them, "See everyone! This is what we should be striving for in foreign relations. A beautiful display, you two!"

Canada and Turkey giggled knowingly together, before the other nations rushed them. Questions flew at them, and before Canada knew it, he separated from the one person he wanted to be with. France caught his arm and drug him to England. Together, his fathers grilled him like they did at breakfast several days ago, and once again, Canada escaped their quarries. He ended his night hurrying from the room, though with one more glance back, he saw the Turk was gone already.

Several hours later after a shower and packing, Canada leaned on his balcony and stared up to the stars. What a night! He had danced with Turkey, and afterwards, several nations had talked with him. Many had actually called him the right country! He giggled recalling the way Turkey and him slid together and broke apart in step. It was so right, so graceful, and even better Turkey remembered one of his favorite bands. Such a perfect, sweet gentleman…

A knock snapped him from his thoughts. Canada hurried to the door and opened it. He smiled.

Turkey stood there holding what look like a jade forest green article of clothing. He still wore his clothes from the Ball, just a little messier.

"Hi."

"Hello. Would you like to come in?"

"No," Turkey quickly added, "I have to be in bed soon. My flight leaves early in the morning, and I still need to pack. I just…" He looked down, thinking through his next phrase. Licking his lips, he spoke quietly, but his eyes stayed focused on Canada's, "I wanted to thank you. I had such a great time this conference and it's all because of you. So, um, I wanted to give you something until I saw you again."

He handed the clothing to Canada, who unfolded it. It was a hoodie. Thinking back, he realized it was the dark green hoodie Turkey always wore when he wasn't dressed formally.

Canada shook his head, "I can't take this! It's-"

"My favorite?" Turkey chuckled, tucking hair behind the blonde's ear, "I know. So take care of it for me until I see you again. It's winter, and it's cold where you live. Think of it as me keeping you warm."

"I-I… thank you," Canada hugged the hoodie close, peering up to Turkey with bright eyes, "I'll guard it with my life."

"If a polar bear is mauling it, it's okay. I can always buy a new one."

"Well polar bears like me."

Turkey chuckled and scratched his head, "I guess I should be going. I have a lot to do tonight. So I guess…"

"Until next time."

Stepping into the door, Turkey pulled Canada into his arms and hugged him close. He sighed, feeling the young man return the action. They held each other, and Canada hoped they would never let go. But to his dismay, Turkey stepped back and ruffled his hair.

"See you later," he murmured.

Canada nodded, "Bye."

Turning away, Turkey strolled off down the hallway. That was it. They were done for this conference. Canada held the hoodie closer and sniffed it. Sandalwood, some sweet baked dessert, and Turkish cigarettes. No. No this couldn't be all.

"Turkey!" he called out hurrying up to him.

The tanned man stopped, pleasantly surprised, "Yes?"

Standing on his tip toes, Canada kissed his cheek. It was soft and chaste, but those pressed lips lingered a few extra seconds.

He stepped back and smiled. "My name is Matthew Williams. Please call me that."

Turkey smiled. Leaning in, he pressed another kiss to Matt's cheek, also lingering a few moments. Touching the spot he just kissed with his fingertips, he answered, "I am Sadiq Adnan. Very pleased to meet you, Matthew."

"Be safe going home."

"You too. Look me up when you get back."

Matt practically beamed as he nodded, "I will!"

Sadiq shot him one last smile before turning away and exiting down the hall.

Swelling with warmth, Matt slipped on the hoodie, which practically swallowed him, and skipped back to his room. It was going to be a long flight home until he could scrounge up his directory with all the nations' contact information in it.

**It was a bit long because I know I won't be able to update for a while. I hoped you enjoyed it! Please read and review.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Happy Summer everyone! I plan on getting some good writing done in my free time. So I'm doing Northern Lights first before Vigilance. I'm still researching for it and working my way through. Also, N.L. is much easier to write and not as heavy material. **

**So I posted a poll on my profile page. I'm doing a bit of an experiment because I'm writing N.L. and Vigilance at the same time. I want to see which one people would rather read more, and I'll focus on it more. But I have a sneaking suspicion that I have two different audiences. So I just want to see. So please go vote on my profile page.**

**To address a few reviews:**

**Everyone- yes there is an entire genre of music dedicated to Harry Potter. It's called Wizard Wrock. There's about 700 bands internationally. Look them up. They're good! Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls is one of my favorites.**

**And for another one of my favorites, I'm using this song in this chapter (when did this become a song fic?).:**

**http :// www. youtube. com/ watch?v= 9k2nOXh1dP8**

**Just put the spaces together. I promise I'll avoid songs if I can. I just write to music. The bold part is the chorus. Okay, enjoy!**

**

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That Canadian invasion started slowly for Sadiq, but it was the only time he didn't fight back. The first move was just emails shot back and forth. They were nothing big in the beginning, just short few lined blurbs. One afternoon in mid November, Sadiq flipped up his laptop after a long day at work. Lighting up a cigarette, he smirked seeing an email waiting for him:

From MapelLover231

To IHateGreece547

_Hey there! How have you been? It's pretty cold here, but I've been having fun in the snow. Ivan came by recently and I beat him in hockey… again! Hurray! That's pretty much all that is new with me. What's going on with you?_

_Matt._

Chuckling, he placed the cigarette on the ashtray and scooted closer to his desk. Fingers shooting to the keyboards, he froze. It was always so hard to start one of these things. Though he had learned the basics of emails, it was still a fairly new invention to an old man like him. Slow and cautious pushing each key, Sadiq pounded out an email back to the young nation:

From IHateGreece547

To MapelLover231

_Hello, Matt. I've been alright. Just busy with the normal work stuff. I did take a day off and see a match of __Yağlı güreş__… I guess you would call it wrestling. It was a good match but my guy lost. I whipped up some Turkish Delights. I'll mail you some since your big Christmas holiday is coming up._

_Sadiq_

The email wave of the invasion reached its greatest height a month later when Saqid woke up one morning with a message waiting for him. All the subject said was, _"Hit the play button." _He clicked the message and smiled as a video popped up. A minute of buffering later, Sadiq gasped seeing Matt adjusting the camera. Finally, he sat back in the frame—awesome! Matt wore his hoodie!—and the Canadian shifted on a piano bench with a large grand piano behind him.

_Hi Sadiq! I hope this video finds you well-_

God, he had missed seeing that cute face… those eyes…

_-and as you can tell I'm making you a video. It's probably very nice at your house right now. Here… not so much._

Matt reached for the camera and turned it towards the window, giving Sadiq the first real look at the Canadian's house. The red stained, wooden floor glistened in the firelight, only a bit darker than the walls. Catching a quick glance of Matt's polar bear sleeping on the couch—a lovely crimson and silver color—the camera settled on the window. The Turk couldn't help but to gawk at the vast amount of white. Snow covered everything outside, from the porch, to a shed in the back yard, to the distant trees he could barely make out. Shivering, Sadiq couldn't imagine how cold it was. Yanking the camera back, Matt readjusted once more on him at the piano.

_As you can see, there is tons of snow outside, and I've been trapped in my house for about a week now. But at least I got your package before the storm rolled in. Kumajiro and I have been enjoying the Turkish Delights so thank you! It was a very nice present. I know you don't really celebrate Christmas and all of that, but I still wanted to get you something. And I knew with the storm, I can't mail you anything for a while, so I thought of this. Forgive me, I can't play as well as someone like Austria, and I didn't write this song. But it's by one of my favorite artist—yes another nerdy, Harry Potter band—but this is my gift to you. I changed some of the words to sort of fits your and my friendship so… yeah. Okay. I hope you like it._

Turning to the piano, Matt settled his fingers on the keys and began to play slowly. He stopped once in the beginning, quickly apologizing, and started again. The mess up didn't matter. Sadiq's smiled grew wider as Matt began to sing. His voice was soft and sweet, almost like a woman's but it still reverberated like a man's:

"_It's that time of year I'm sipping hot cocoa like its butterbeer._

_I need some cheer._

_So I grab my wand, pretend its LeakyCon and then go online again._

_When it's freezing outside I'm curled up with book five _

_and a blanket that I wish I could share with you._

_Haven't see you since fall so I'm missing you all._

_Wish we had a Yule Ball to go to._

**_I wish you were here_**

**_wish you could apparate._**

**_Oh, why do we have to live so far away?_**

**_You're in Constantinople, Turkey. Hey~_**

_**It's not Christmas without my Turkish friend this holiday.**  
_

_It's just not the same tweeting 'I love you.' It's just not the same online._

_And to my surprise as hard as I try my mac book just does not give good hugs._

_So I've been reminiscing good times I've been listing, 'cause something is missing when_

_you're not around ._

_It can be pretty lonely but just like the Weasleys you've become my family and _

_I'm glad that I found you…_

Matt sang the chorus a few more times before letting the last chord die away. Turning back to the camera, he waved and smiled:

_Sorry if that sounded bad. I hope you liked it. Merry Christmas, Sadiq. I can't wait to see you again. Bye!_

End of video. Sadiq sat back, running a hand through his hair. "Wow," he muttered, shaking his head. He just couldn't stop smiling. But one thing bothered him. Opening a new reply, he quickly addressed it to the Canadian and started typing:

_Matt! That was awesome! Thank you so much. But one thing bugs me. You know that Constantinople is called Istanbul now, right?_

The second phase of the Canadian invasion started in February. It was a form of communication that Sadiq had never used before. He was slow at first with it, but thanks to Matt's guidance, he was able to master it fast. The once great Ottoman Empire learned how to use Skype.

Logging on late one Thursday night, Sadiq lit up a cigarette in his new routine. He would smoke, drink some tea, and talk to Matt who would be getting ready for work. And then they would switch about twelve hours later. Matt would get ready for bed while the Turk dressed himself. It was never anything dirty, and they would turn off the video feed whenever they had to change clothes. But there was something comforting about starting and ending his day with the Canadian. Clicking on Matt's name, Sadiq started the video call.

A white furry face appeared in the frame, paw on the mouse.

"Hello, Kumajiro. Can you get Mathew for me?"

"_Who?"_

Sadiq rolled his eyes. By now, he had gotten used to the forgetful polar bear, "The person that feeds you every day. Canada."

Footsteps sounded in the background, and the bear was suddenly pulled away. Matt appeared on his screen.

"_Good Morning Sadiq!"_

"Good evening, Mathew. Nice tie."

The Canadian sat at his desk and glanced down at his tie, _"I like the hockey sticks too."_ He picked up a bowl off his desk and scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal.

"What's the flavor this morning?"

"_Brown sugar and maple."_

"Of course. Maple."

"_What else would I eat on it?"_

Being Thursday, Sadiq took out a pad of paper and a pen, "So, what's your book suggestion for this weekend?"

"_The English Patient__."_

Jotting it down, the Turk nodded, "And why is this good?"

Matt paused for a moment to sip his coffee, _"In 1992, Michael Ondaatje became the first Canadian to win the Booker Prize for it."_ He took up his own I-pad and tapped it on, _"And what is your book suggestion for my own weekend pleasure?"_

"Oh? Weekend pleasure?"

"_Behave."_

"My choice for you is Snow by Orhan Pamuk. It's funny at times, but very sad."

Pausing to punch the title into his new fangled technology that Sadiq didn't quite get, Matt smiled up to him, _"Okay. Why is this good?"_

Sadiq snubbed out his cigarette and leaned back, "Mr. Pamuk won a Nobel Prize. It wasn't for this work, but it's still good."

"_I will download it this weekend."_

This is how their routine continued every night and day. Thursdays, trading off their bestselling authors to learn more about their countries, Tuesdays were their favorite movies, Saturday was recipes… All the other days were everything in between. Since their first outing, Sadiq started reading comics, constantly on Wikipedia to fill in gaps. Now, he could at least sort of hold a conversation with Mathew about comics. By sort of, he could mostly comment about every five minutes as the Canadian would ramble.

But overall, it was nice. He couldn't remember the last time he had routine and order in his life. For once, Sadiq was very content.

Finally, the third part of the invasion started when they traded cell phone numbers. If they weren't on Skype or emailing, they were texting or chatting throughout the day. Sadiq didn't even mind getting a new phone plan so they could send pictures and videos to each other; it's not like he didn't have the money.

On a Monday morning in mid April, Sadiq brushed his teeth in his Istanbul flat. The cell phone pressed precariously between his shoulder and ear. Matt sleepily slurred his words over the line, his day just finishing. Too cute. Spitting out the last of the paste and stepping back into his room, he glanced over to his dresser. A picture of Matt that he had printed out glistened into a frame. It was the last image he saw every night. Not the real thing, but a piece of computer paper and ink. This was it. No more Canadian invasions. It was time for Turkey to fight back.

"Mathew? Are you still with me?"

"_Yes,"_ yawned the young nation, _"What's up?"_

Turkey paced his room, realizing that he was starting to sweat a little, "So you know that we can easily get to each other's houses right? If we wanted to."

Though they lived in different countries, a few years back Egypt, England, and Norway pulled their magical abilities together and connected all the houses of the Nation People. Every one of them had a door installed in their houses that led to… well, Sadiq didn't know exactly what it was. Egypt explained it to him once, but he had no clue what his friend had said. It was like another dimension. When a nation stepped through their door, they walked out of the backdoor of their literal house. But instead of being in their country, they found themselves in a giant cul-de-sac. There was no entrances or exits, just one big circle that had every Nation Person's house on it. The weather was always perfect in this bubble dimension. But most people tended not to use the easy access to each other's houses. Usually, they didn't trust the unnatural elements of traveling through another dimension, or they just never had time to make house calls. Sadiq, knowing what he was about to say, had only one choice. He would take the chance in that weird space.

"_Sadiq? Sadiq, are you still there?"_

"Yes, sorry."

Matt giggled, making the Turk's heart skip, _"Why did you bring up Arthur's pride and joy? You know how often he talks about that thing?"_

"Too much," Sadiq flopped on his bed, "I brought it up because I want to use it to come see you. Soon. "

"_Soon? What for?"_

"Mathew, will you go out on a date with me?"

A long silence shattered from a shriek, _"EH! What!"_

"Ow! What are you screaming for? If you don't want to go-"

"_No! Nonononono! It's not that,"_ Matt was clearly wide awake now and his stuttering was in prime form, _"I've never really… really… been on a… date before."_

The Turk couldn't help but to smile. Young nations were so cute. "So is it a yes or a no?"

After a round of mumbling, Matt finally squeaked, _"Yes! Yes! Jeez! You took forever to ask me out!"_

"You're a big nation! You could have asked me first."

"_I wasn't sure if you liked me."_

"Mathew," Sadiq pushed himself up from his bed, "I've only talked to you everyday the last three, four months."

From his tone, the Turk knew Matt was grinning, _"True."_

"I'll come to your place on Saturday. Think about your all time favorite restaurant—price is no matter—and anything else you want to do. I'm paying for everything. No protesting. You can pay for the next date."

Mathew scoffed, _"How do you know there will be another date?"_

"I have a good feeling."

One more cute giggle later, it was confirmed.

The Turkish invasion had begun.

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**Please Read and Review… and I love fanart as well.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello everyone! I'm back for N.L.!**

**Sorry for the long break. A lot of factors came into why it took me so long including working on my other fanfic Vigilant and I was working out in my head Matt and Sadiq's date.**

**About the reviews, THANK YOU! I love and adore them all. Remember I love fanart.**

**I discovered a flaw in my writing. I was researching Turkey and the religions there. I discovered that (a) the main religion is Islam and (b) Muslims don't drink. It's forbidden. So….chapter four really wouldn't have happened in a way. Sadiq wouldn't have drunk with Matt. Sorry if I offended anyone by making Turkey a drinker. I just didn't know.**

**Please make sure you check out my other fanfic Vigilant. I think it's the stronger piece to be honest with you, and I'm quite proud of it.**

**Please enjoy this chapter of Northern Lights.**

Matthew stared at the clock hanging on his kitchen wall. Every minute, no, every second felt like an hour as the clock hands crawled along the face. He could hear it too. Each tick… tick…. tick… rang in his ears. But thankfully, for once, Sadiq wasn't late... yet. Matt was waiting because he was dressed and ready to go twenty minutes early.

Leaping up, he started to pace as he smoothed his shirt for the sixtieth time. Hands clammy and shaking, Matt tried to focus on breathing. His first date. The big one. Maybe. He didn't actually know. It's not like he had to make a first impression. They had been talking for several months now, and Matt considered Sadiq to be one of his closest friends. But this was different. Their relationship was about to go to the next level. In fact, it might go all the way…

Cheeks flushing with blood, he shook that thought out of his head as he forced himself to sit down again. What if they did go all the way! How could Matt ever tell Sadiq, who was known to be a legendary lover, that the little Canadian was… a virgin? Did people like virgins? Would he ever be able to please the Turk? Of course being the son of France he knew how sex worked, and Matthew had read PLENTY about it in various fanfictions. But the thought of being naked in front of another human being and being touched by them was almost frightening. From what he had heard, Sadiq had been making love and causing pleasure for centuries. How could Matt ever compare to that?

A gentle rapt on his back door made Matt leap up, nearly tripping over his chair. This was it. He had to be cool and calm at this moment. Glancing at his reflection in the stove window one last time, he threw open the door with a huge smile on his face.

"Hey Mattie!"

His smile faded a little.

"Gilbert?" Matt spoke slowly, getting over the shock that an amazingly handsome Turkish man wasn't there waiting for him, "What are you doing here?"

Gently scooting around Matt, Gil strolled into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter. "What?" he shrugged with that cocky smirk gracing his lips, "I can't swing by and see my favorite maple loving friend? At least I didn't break down the door this time."

"Thanks for that. Gilbert, look you have to le-"

"Man you look nice today!" the Prussian kicked his feet a little, excited about the compliment. His eyes trailed up and down Matthew's body as a light blush crossed his cheeks. "You look so awesome."

Matthew didn't notice the blush, and responded in an annoyed voice, "Thank you, but you need to leave. I'm expecting company."

Gilbert's smirk drooped a little, but the energy still rang in his voice, "Company? What are you psychic? How did you know that I was coming?"

"Not you, Gil. I'm sorry, but it's someone else. I have… I have a date."

All the mirth in Gilbert's eyes snuffed out as he frowned. Mouth suddenly dry, he tried to form a word. No sound came out. Trying again after licking his lips, he muttered, "A date? Like a date, date?"

"Yes."

"With who?"

Gilbert's frown lines deepened as he watched the Canadian flush and fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Shit. Fucking shit, someone had got to Matt first. This was not looking too good for the Prussian.

"Well," Matt spoke softly and sweetly, swaying a bit in his excitement, "I know it sounds a little weird but it's with Turkey."

"Tur-! WHAT! Mattie, you can't be serious?" Sliding off the counter, Gilbert placed his hands on Matthew's arms and pulled him close, "Turkey is a brute. He has a rough background and only wants to gain something from you. He'll hurt you. I don't want to see that happen to you."

Matt shook his head, taking a step back from Gilbert, "No, you're wrong. He's been so kind to me. I don't think-"

"You do not know him," Gilbert spoke softer than the Canadian had ever heard him speak. Eyes full of worry, he continued, "You're young. You're younger than a lot of countries. You never saw Turkey when he was the Ottoman Empire. He was terrifying and cruel. I just don't want him to hurt you."

Before Matt could answer, a second knock rang out breaking the conversation. Matt glanced at the door before touching Gilbert's hand, "I know what people think about him. But he's never been like that with me. Please just… just be nice right now, Gilbert."

With a slight nod, the Prussian released Matt and watched with a grim expression as the blond shuffled to the door. With some disgust, he sneered seeing the Turk waiting there with a rose in hand.

"Hello Matthew," Sadiq grinned holding out the rose, "I'm on time for once."

Matt, blushing a bit as he took the rose, nodded, "You are." With a squeal, he launched himself into Sadiq's arms and squeezed him tight, "I've missed you! I can't believe we haven't seen each other in such a long time."

"I can't get hugs through Skype," Sadiq chuckled as he noticed Gilbert watching them. Tilting his head in confusion, he motioned towards Gil, "What is he doing here?"

Seeing the begging eyes of Canada, Gilbert cleared his throat and nodded to his young friend, "I was just leaving. I didn't know that Matt had a guest coming. Have fun today, Mattie." Stepping around the couple, Gilbert shot a quick glare to the Turk before slipping out and shutting the back door behind him.

"What was that about?" Sadiq glanced over Matt's shoulder, taking in the Canadian's kitchen for the first time. It was homey but up to date with environmentally forward appliances.

Picking up a tote bag that had been lying on the table, Matt draped it over his shoulder shrugged, "I don't know. Gilbert has a habit of just showing up at my door for no real reason. But let's not worry about that. Are you ready to go?" He crossed his kitchen and pulled a vase from his cabinet. Filling it with water, Matthew placed his gift in the window over his sink.

"I am ready. I've been ready to see you for a few months now." Taking Matthew's hand, Sadiq leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the Canadian's cheek, "Lead the way."

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Sadiq stared at himself in the mirror of the changing room. He knew that the date would be a little different than normal, but the last time he had been on a legit date had been the 19th Century. He had thought that it would just be some modern date, maybe go to a comic book store, get a coffee at a café, and that would be it. He never imagined that his first date with Matthew Williams would leave him in this kind of situation. Though his skin was completely covered, he still felt so exposed. The material he wore hugged his skin, showing the contours of every muscle on his body. His eyes trailed down the mirror image. Yep. He could clearly see his crotch. Maybe this was Matt's coy plan to see him naked without him actually being naked. Frisky, smart little Canadian.

"Sadiq?" Matthew called in, knocking lightly on the door, "Do you need help getting it on?"

Gathering his clothes up and cramming them in a plastic bag that the shop had provided, Sadiq opened the door and smirked to Matt, "You know this is the first time that I've ever worn a wetsuit during a date. In fact, I don't think I've ever worn a wetsuit in my life."

"Well you look good in it… except for this bit of bunching on the shoulder," Matthew pinched the material and tugged it down to cover the rest of Sadiq's wrist.

Catching his hand, Sadiq turned Matt towards him and looked the young nation up and down. Damn. The Canadian just shimmered in the wetsuit, the elastic hugging his skin. He was a bit skinnier than Sadiq originally thought, but it wasn't too much. And those hips that the Turk wanted to touch so much? They were a little wider than a normal man's, but not quite like a woman's. It made Matthew unique and beautiful.

Blushing and tucking some hair behind his ear, Matt smiled at Sadiq and pulled him towards the lockers to store their clothes. "Well," he spoke quietly, snapping the lock shut, "I wasn't quite sure if you would like this sort of thing. I kinda like outdoor sports, so I thought we could do a little kayaking. I made a picnic lunch, but we have to actually go to the little island to eat. If that's okay with you!"

Sadiq chuckled as he stepped out of the shop to the docks, still holding Matt's hand, "It fine. This is really… special. I like it a lot, Matthew."

After a quick run through of rules about using the kayaks from the instructor and getting their life vests fitted—which made Matt and Sadiq giggle at how ridiculous they looked—the two of them slipped in their individual kayaks and paddled out into the lake.

"Hey Matthew!" Sadiq called up as the Canadian led, "We're not going to go over any rapids or anything are we?"

Matthew just chuckled to himself.

**This is part one of their big date. Please read and review.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello everyone! I'm back from hiatus! Rent went really well, and I thank you for your patience in my absence.**

**So, a few quick things to talk about. I have a new poll on my profile, and it's just for Northern Lights. Who do you want Matt to end up with? Go check it out.**

**The second thing is I'm in the process of developing a Hetalia radio show/podcast. My main couple in the show will be Sadiq and Matt so I'll post links in my profile when that gets up on its feet.**

**Okay! On to the chapter!**

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Hopping out of the kayak, Matthew shivered. Though it was the beginning of summer, the lake water was still pretty chilly. Dragging his up to the shore, he shouldered his backpack and waded back into the water. "Come on, Sadiq! You're so slow!"

"Be quiet," grumbled the Turk, trying to push his boat over a fallen log, "I'm not an outdoor extraordinaire like you are."

Matt snatched the front of Sadiq's kayak and guided it up to shore. "There you go," he laughed helping Sadiq out and to his feet. "Welcome back to land."

"Thanks. Other than getting stuck, that was really fun. Matt, it's beautiful out here," Sadiq turned slowly, taking in his surroundings. They were beached on a small island with a single, monstrous tree growing out of it. In the middle of the massive, smooth lake, he could see they were surrounded by snow capped mountains draped in low hanging clouds. Over one was a far off storm, moving away from them. Though it was overcast, beams of sun broke through and glistened on the distant landmarks. "Wow," he murmured, the only word that came to him.

Taking his hand, Matt squeezed it drawing the Turk's attention to him, "I know. It's really pretty, right? I love it here."

"Matthew," smiled Sadiq as he tucked some hair behind his ear, "I'm warning you, this will sound so cheesy."

"I have been warned."

"The only reason that the scenery around us compares to you is because it is Canada. It is you."

Matthew opened his mouth, gaping at Sadiq. The words, so kind and gentle, made the Canadian turn a light shade of pink. The world seemed to slow down as Sadiq turned to face him and lean in. Holy crap! They were going to kiss! It wasn't even the end of the date yet. But this was awesome! Matt closed his eyes and waited with slightly puckered lips.

Something cold and scaly brushed against his leg breaking his kiss concentration. Glancing down, his forehead smacked into Sadiq's nose, and both nations grabbed their sore heads.

"Shit!" swore the Turk, his voice sounding nasily, "What happened?"

Rubbing his forehead, Matt shook his leg sending a long, thin creature flying back into the water, "Sorry, a little water snake wrapped around me ankle."

"Snake?" Sadiq paled a little, the color drained from his face. His eyes darted around on the ground, "A snake! Here? Where?"

"It's gone now. I just—waaaaiiit…. Are you scared of snakes?"

"No! I just don't like them," turning away, Sadiq climbed up the hill towards the tree and plopped down on a root. He kept his eyes up and away from his date as if the scenery was just so much more important.

With a little smile, Matt climbed up and sat beside him. It was probably better to not say anything else. Opening up his bag, he dug out several bowls of Tupperware and laid them out on the root between them. He popped open the lids before handing out plastic forks and spoons.

Sadiq stared at the layout in front of him, "Matthew… all of this…"

"It's the recipes you've been sending me," the Canadian tried not to appear too proud. "I've been working on them. Sorry, but you're my guinea pig. I hope they're alright. We have humus and pita, stuffed grape leaves, a fruit and feta salad, borek, small lamb kebabs, and baklava. I was going to make rice, but I was afraid it would dry out on the kayak. I'm surprised the grape leaves stayed in one piece… except that one. I'll eat the mess up."

Rubbing his arm, Sadiq chuckled, "I'm sure it will all be alright. It looks amazing. Do you have plates?"

"I figured we could share."

"Sounds good to me."

After a few minutes of munching, Matt swallowed and looked to Sadiq, "Hey, I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Why did you choose me?"

Mulling over the question as he finished a huge bite, Sadiq studied the purple eyes he had come to adore, "I'm not quite sure. Something about your eyes."

"My eyes?"

"I'm drawn to them," he continued, scraping out a piece of feta, "When I bumped into you and I looked into them, I just… something in me triggered. It was like I had to be near you. I just had to be around you. Do you ever have déjà vu?"

"Yeah."

"It was like that. I felt like I had seen your eyes before-"

"We've been in meetings together for years, Sadiq," Matt interjected, nibbling on a kebab.

Sadiq watched his date for a moment, trying to find the right words, "That's not what I mean, Matthew. A long time ago… it was like I had seen them before in a dream, some distant memory. Before in meetings, I never actually looked in your eyes. When we bumped, and I saw them, it just triggered something in me. Something deeper."

Matt smirked and joked, "Maybe I'm your soul mate."

"Maybe."

"I was… um…" Losing his words, Matt returned to eating unsure what to say.

Realizing that he might have spoke a little too personally on the first date, Sadiq quickly changed the subject, "So, what do you think of Star Wars?"

"OhmyGod! I looooooooove it!"

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Strolling back up to the Canadian's Vancouver home, Matt held Sadiq's hand swinging it lightly. The rest of the date had continued quietly. They kayaked more around the lake, spotting turtles on logs, waving to other boaters, and exploring the shoreline. On the drive back, they stopped into a café for coffee and pastries to snack on. All simple, normal date events. Now, they stood on the porch as the last rays of sun vanished behind the trees, the stars poked out.

Sadiq, unsure what to say, turned to Matthew. He watched as the Canadian fiddled with his keys and chuckled. "I had a good time," he said tucking some hair behind Matthew's ear.

"Me too," the nerves were apparent in Matt's voice. "It was super fun."

"Yeah."

"Sadiq?"

"Hmm?"

Licking his lips, he looked up to the Turk, "Are we a thing? Like… are we dating now?"

Cupping his cheek, Sadiq leaned in and whispered, "Only if you will take me, Matthew." Pressing their lips together, Sadiq closed his eyes and sighed. The kiss was simple, chaste, but sweet. Just like Matt. He felt a warmth rise in his chest, and he couldn't help but to smile. It last a few moments before he leaned back and tried not to laugh. Matthew blushed so deep that it appeared his head would explode from the pressure. It was obviously the young nation's first kiss.

"Yes!" Matthew blurted out, breaking into a wide grin.

"That good?"

"No—I mean yes!—I mean that I will take you. I want you to be here too," he squeezed Sadiq's hand and placed another kiss on the Turk's cheek.

"I'm glad," said Sadiq before stepping back, "I should go. I have to finish some paperwork before work tomorrow."

"Me too. Be careful heading home in the weird way."

"I will," he leaned in and kissed Matt's lips one last time.

With that, the Canadian turned and stepped inside. Closing the door he cheered and danced around in his kitchen.

Hearing the commotion outside, Sadiq chuckled quietly to himself before heading home.

Matthew rushed to his computer and signed on facebook. He updated his status with _'Had the most amazing time today! I can't believe this all happened to me! To ME!'_

On the other side of the internet, a very unhappy Gilbert stared at the status on the screen.

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**Please read and review. Next chapter, the family gets in the way!**


	9. Chapter 9

**You guys should thank Oliversgirl. I read his/her fic that is also about Canada and Turkey. I was going to wait to write on Northern Lights until Christmas break, but I read that fic and it got me excited. You should go read it. It's good. His/her Sadiq is different from mine (much more canon) but I like it. You can read it here:**

**http:/ www. fanfiction. net/s/ 6408382/1/ The_TurkishCanadian_Alliance**

**Go read it and thank Oliversgirl for me!**

**I briefly mention my other fic Vigilant in this chapter. That Matt is my canon Matt for this fic. But you don't need to have read it to get this.**

**I also have been thinking of some other fic ideas. I've listed them on my profile page. My favorite is the Hetalia/Pokemon crossover. Please leave me pokemon ideas or Sadiq, Matthew, and Gilbert. They can go all the way up through Diamond and Pearl (the Black and White ones suck!). I know Gilbert will have a Hitmonchan.**

**Now to get to those reviews:**

**~Falcon's Jade: I don't really see Egypt and Greece being "family members." It's going to come up later but my Egypt is Sadiq's ex-boyfriend. But they will have their own opinions later**

**~Panda3035: Gil is too in the race. Sadiq's an ass later. Trust me.**

**~C-to the-A-to the- N- ADA xDD: Yes, facebook. Matt is 19 and deprived of a social life. I know plenty of college students who do that because their friends are on facebook all the time. And then there are facebook stalkers like Matt.**

**On to the story!**

**NOTE:**** Alejandro is Cuba**

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Alfred F. Jones gandered up to the mountain of presents that sat on his patio table. Though there were less festively wrapped boxes this year, they were bigger. Al was totally okay with bigger. Leaning on the porch railing, he inhaled deeply and took in his backyard. Firework smoke wafted from a family down the street celebrating the day. It mixed with the hamburgers and hotdogs Francis cooked on the grill.

"No one should have to cook on their birthday," he had argued.

The other guests mingled in the garden. They chatted and gossiped about the state of world affairs, the affairs of others, and their personal affairs. As Alfred scanned over each face, he realized that someone was missing. He trotted across the yard to Francis and tapped the Frenchman's shoulder, "Hey, have you seen Mattie yet?"

Francis shrugged as he turned over the sizzling bratwursts, "No, I have not. You did remember to send him an invitation, non?"

"I did! Arthur was with me when I sent them out," Alfred pouted before calling to the Brit. "Iggy! Come here a second!"

Pardoning himself from his conversation with Lithuania, Arthur grumbled as he joined them at the grill, "What is it? I was having a very detailed conversation about the teas of Eastern Europe."

"Whatever," Alfred rolled his eyes. "Have you seen Mattie yet?"

Arthur glanced around the yard and shook his head, "No. In fact, I haven't spoken to Matthew in a couple weeks. He always calls me to check in. Isn't he usually the first one at your parties, Alfred?"

Francis chuckled, "Maybe he was lost in your weird way, Arthur. That things is rather-how do you say?-freaky."

A deep purple hue set into Arthur's face as the vein in his temple throbbed, "It is an inner dimensional time and space pocket dimension! And it is a solid piece of magical art!"

Alfred plopped a hand on his fathers' shoulders, trying to coax them not to argue. This always happened at least once at every family gathering. Sometimes he wished they would just hurry up and fuck before they actually came over. It would do away with all of the tension. But that thought made the knot in Alfred's chest tighten. He glanced at Arthur and smiled slightly. The old man might be smart, but he never did see Alfred's feelings towards him. The Brit's eyes were only for the Frenchman's.

Gilbert, who wasn't actually invited to the party but followed Ludwig anyway for free food, strolled up to the grill. Holding out his plate to Francis, he asked, "Can I have a wurst yet?"

"Hey you!" Alfred pointed overdramatically at him, "Gilbert, you're Matt's friend!"

"Yeah. Can I have a wurst?"

"Do you know where he is?"

A look crossed Gilbert's face. It was something that Alfred had never seen on the Prussian. Usually he thought that Gilbert was only capable of obnoxious and angry facial expressions. This was different. Gilbert had a look of shear jealousy. Through buttoned lips, he muttered out, "Probably at home."

Once again, Alfred pouted and furrowed his brow, "Why?"

"Why do you think!" Gilbert screamed and the entire party fell silent. "I wouldn't want to come to my brother's birthday either when my entire retard family forgot mine! But no! Matt is too nice and has come to every one of your stupid family events for years!"

Francis covered his mouth, "Mon Dieu, he is right! Mathieu's birthday was a few days ago!"

Arthur's mouth hung open for a few moments, "We did it again. We forgot the lad! We must make it up to him."

Gilbert snorted and snatched up a bratwurst, "I'm sure he's fucking dandy right now."

Al cocked his head, "What do you mean?"

The Prussian strode away, not answering.

* * *

The next afternoon, Alfred F. Jones held two presents in his hand. One was genuine while the other was a video game he had already beaten. Two was better than just one, right? It would show how sorry he truly was. Plus, he was recycling a game. Matt would appreciate that!

Usually, no matter what would happen, Matthew would be there for him. Alfred could treat him like crap—had treated him like crap—and Matthew would show up with a smile like nothing was wrong. America didn't deserve the Canadian. Alfred glanced to Francis and Arthur, both armed with their own gifts. The three nations knew they had totally messed up this time.

Stepping up to the front door, Alfred frowned seeing it already open. Through the screen door, he couldn't see his brother. All the windows were open letting the fresh mild Canadian summer air come into the house.

"Matt?" he called in and listened. Somewhere, faint music was heard but no other sounds. "We're coming in!"

They tiptoed through the house. Nothing seemed out of place. Everything was still just as clean, while the television played daytime soap operas. The kitchen had a faint scent of lunch cooked just a while ago as the dishwasher whirled. From the back screen door in the kitchen, they heard the music get stronger. Sprawled out on the floor by the door was Kumajirou. He lifted his head and watched them.

"Hey bear," Alfred motioned around, "Where's Mattie?"

"Work shed out back," yawned Kuma as he lumbered past them to claim the couch.

Arthur opened the creaking screen door and walked out into the gardens, "To the work shed." Alfred and Francis followed. The music became louder, and Alfred realized it was some form of rock. On the door, a sign swayed in the warm breeze that read _Welding: Watch your eyes!_

"Mathieu can weld?" Francis whistled at the sign.

Alfred tapped his fist on the door, "Yeah, I taught him. We helped weld the Empire State Building together." When no answer came, he pushed his way in. The work shed was Mathew's private space. Alfred had only been in there a few times when Matt had locked himself in there. His brother loved restoring motorcycles, taking them apart and putting them back together. Since World War II after Matthew's capture, it had been a source of healing for him to take his mind off of things. Surprisingly, the suggestion had come from Germany during Matthew's short stay with him.

The room had a few gutted motorcycles, two complete ones, tools and work benches neatly organized around the shop. One portable TIG welder sat in the middle as the ultraviolet light sparked. The light threw shadows on the walls as two men practiced on scrap metal. Both of them had the standard face guards, jackets, and gloves to shield them from the heat and deadly rays. One of the men crouched over, moving the welding torch in small arches. The molten metal pooled at the tip as the man pulled it back across the joint of rods. In moments, they were one piece. The second man stood behind him, watching carefully. Vanishing in an instant, the light snuffed out.

Matthew, who was standing, lifted his mask and kneeled down as well. He whistled, "Not bad! You're getting better in just a few days."

"Thank you. I practiced before you work up this morning," the second man answered.

Alfred knew that voice. It couldn't be true.

"Matthew," Arthur cried out startling the pair, "We came to visit you! Happy Birthday!"

Matthew didn't look very amused or welcoming. Tugging on his mask, he laid it on top of the welder before ripping off his gloves. "My birthday was four days ago."

"I know!" Alfred approached with caution hoping Matthew wouldn't pummel them with a welder, "Yesterday was mine, and we remembered then."

"Oh really? We forgot all about it," Matt rolled his eyes and took off all of his gear until he was just wearing overalls and a Star Trek shirt. He strolled over to the radio and clicked it off.

The second man yanked off his gear as well, and the family members gawked at Sadiq.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Francis demanded before cursing in French.

"He came over for my birthday and has stayed the last few days here," Matthew shut off the welder and the lights in the shed. "Come on, Sadiq. We have company. Let's put some tea on."

Alfred glared at the Turk, the two of them exchanging silent threats. Why would the Middle Eastern country be here with his brother? Was he trying to invade Canada? The way the two walked together, exchanged looks, and smiled signaled that something was up.

Back in the kitchen, Matthew fired up a pot of tea before setting out some cupcakes that Al assumed was from his party. The Canadian flopped in a chair beside Sadiq and stared at his family.

An awkward silence filled the room.

"Matthew," Arthur cleared his throat, trying to break the ice, "What did you do on your birthday? I would love to hear about it since we weren't able to make it."

Sadiq snapped back with an edge in his voice, "Don't you mean forgot?"

"Shh, let it go," Matt held up a hand to silence him. Turkey reluctantly complied. A deep heat filled Alfred's core. His brother continued, "Well, Gilbert, Alejandro, and Sadiq came over. We made these cupcakes and watched movies. Afterwards, we smoked some pot and got drunk. That was about it. But it was really fun. Sometimes it's nice to have small get togethers with close friends instead of huge mixers in my back yard drinking like a bunch of dumb hosers."

Alfred shifted in his seat as the same heat rose in him. But it crossed his face, and he felt much smaller than he was used to. Pushing his presents across the table, he forced a smile, "That sounds like a lot of fun, Mattie. Why don't you open our gifts?"

The tea kettle whistled, but before Matthew could stand up, Sadiq rested a hand on his shoulder, "I have it. You open your presents."

"Thanks. I want my tea-"

"Splash of milk and sugar. I know."

There they go again! All that smiling at each other!

Reaching for Al's first package, Matthew tore at the odd shape. A few moments later, he frowned at the tiny brown faced woman staring back at him.

"It's syrup!" Alfred beamed like a kid with a gold star, "I know how much you like that stuff. It's Aunt Jemima! The best syrup in the world!"

Matthew glared at his brother for a moment, completely insulted. But he forced a smile and said in a small voice, "Thanks Al. I can't wait to open your other gift." He tore at the package, biting his lip. Assassin's Creed. "Is this the copy I let you borrow, and you never gave it back?"

"Nooooooo." Shit. "Maybe… I forgot you lent it to me."

"It's fine," the Canadian grinned weakly, ignoring the awkward stares of his parents. "I'm glad that I have it back. Oh, thank you, Sadiq." He took his cup of tea from the Turk, drinking a long scalding gulp. He grimaced and picked up Francis' package. It was a thin rectangle that was obviously a book. Tearing open the paper, the Canadian's face darkened as red as his flag. "The Guide to How to Pick Up Women? Really!"

"Only the best for my son," Francis bustled with pride, his chest swelling. "I know you never have been out with one so I thought I would give you some help."

"I'm gay!" Matthew slammed the book down, tears welling in his eyes. "I don't like girls at all! I love men! The way they smell, taste, touch! Their beards and chest hair! I love all of that."

Arthur smacked Francis in the arm, "You didn't know that?"

"Neither did you, Arthur!" the Frenchman slapped back. Both of them glared, using all of their restraint to not fight in Matthew's house. Francis focused back on his son, "Mathieu, I am sorry. I did not know. I will get you another gift then."

"It's not the gift, Papa!" Matthew cried as streaks slid down his cheeks. "I can't believe you. Any of you! What did you get me, Arthur? Tea and an embroidery kit?"

The Brit didn't meet his son's eyes.

With a frustrated cry, Matthew stormed out of the kitchen and upstairs to his bedroom. The family sat in frozen silence. They had messed this up real bad. All these years, was Matt just pretending to like their gifts? Now that Alfred thought back, they gave him similar things every Christmas and birthday. He looked to Francis and Arthur. The older nations kept their heads down in shame, taking in what had just happened.

A teacup appeared in his line of vision as Sadiq slid them each a cup. He sipped his own, stating the obvious, "You really don't know him, do you?"

"And you do!" Alfred sprung to his feet, bumping the table. Arthur caught his tea just in time, but Francis' spilled onto the wood.

"Yes," the Turk appeared unafraid of the American, "We have become good friends over the last several months. Matthew and I have talked quite often and strengthened the bonds between our countries."

Francis raised an eyebrow, "Alright Mr. I-know-everything, did you know he was queer."

"Isn't it obvious?" Sadiq had a slight glimmer in his eyes that Al hated. "He came out to me third. Apparently he had talked to Prussia and Cuba first a few years ago."

Arthur's frown lines deepened, "Fine. What did you get him for his birthday if you know him so well? It can't be better than what we got him."

Standing up, Sadiq washed his cup out and placed it in the dish washer, "I got him Season One of Star Wars: The Clone Wars, the new Whomping Willows album, and miniature Lord of the Rings plush dolls."

Alfred scoffed, "That's all nerd stuff."

"He is a nerd!" Sadiq barked back, his frustration seeping in, "All this around you, this kitchen, the living room, the guest rooms… all of it is just a façade of what he wants you all to think he is! This is what he thinks you'll all be proud of."

Arthur slammed down his cup and clicked his shoes as he stood up. Alfred knew that look. It was Arthur's pirate glare, "Are you saying you have been in my son's room? I'm going to kill you!"

"No," Sadiq braced himself for an assault, "Matthew doesn't like anyone in there. He says it's too embarrassing. Though, the study upstairs has a big screen television with tons of gaming systems. I can only imagine his bedroom."

The stairs in the living room creaked, and a few moments later Matthew appeared in the doorway. He eyes were puffy, but they made the purple hue pop. Alfred rushed to his baby brother to hold him, but Matthew shoved him away.

"I've never have stood up to any of you before," his voice shook as he addressed his family. "Today, I will. I want you all to leave my house. Later, I'll talk to you all about this, but right now I just want to be with my friend."

"Mattie…" Alfred whimpered.

"Please leave! We'll talk later. I promise."

Before he could say anything else, Alfred felt an arm around his middle. Arthur shoved him into the living room and out the front door. Francis quickly followed without a word. Once back out in the weird way, Alfred stopped walking and stared back at his brother's house. This was bad. Somehow, someway they had to make it up to Matthew.

"How do we make this better?" Francis rubbed his eyes. "My poor son. I have neglected him so!"

"We all did, Frog," Arthur looked just as weary. "We have to do something special for sure, and we CAN'T forget him like this again."

"Oh, Arthur," the Frenchman moaned. "What shall we do!"

But it was Alfred who snapped his head up. He had a plan. A good one at that.

"Let's set Mattie up on a date."

"What!"

"Qu'est-ce?"

"If he's actually gay like he apparently is, let's find Mattie a boyfriend."

* * *

Back in the house, Matthew bit his lip. Never in a million years did he think he would be able to say those things to his family. But he did it. Sadiq shuffled over and pulled his young boyfriend into a tight hug, cooing in his ear how proud of the Canadian he was.

Matthew sniffled, "You didn't tell them, did you?"

"That we were dating? No. We agreed to not tell anyone until you were ready. I made them feel terrible though," Sadiq shot him a cheeky grin.

"Good." wiping his nose, Matthew glared at the presents still on his table.

Taking the hint, Sadiq scooped up all the botched gifts—except for the video game because it was truly Matt's—and dropped them into the trashcan. "Best syrup? Right. You can only find that in Canada!"

Matthew smiled and gently kissed the man he fell for more and more every day.

* * *

**Please Read and Review and all that fun stuff and draw stuff and be awesome!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello! I hope you're all doing very well! You need to read a wonderful TurCan story by Starember19 called "Don't Close Your Eyes." It's a very beautiful fic that really captures Sadiq and Matthew's relationship. I hope my fic is half as good. The link is:**

**http:/ www. fanfiction. net /s/ 6663716/1/ Dont_Close_Your_Eyes**

**Just connect the spaces.**

**So I need to raise an important note. In the newest chapter of my other fic, Vigilant, I brought up the fact that Vigilant and N.L. are intertwined. You technically don't have to read both of them, but you will get fuller characters if you do. The Turkey, Canada, Prussia, and everyone in Vigilant are the same as the characters in Northern Lights. The fact the my Matthew lived through the Holocaust, will come into play for both Gilbert and Sadiq's actions. Soon, I'm going to start a SuFin fic that WILL overlap with N.L. and you will have to follow both. What will probably happen is that I'll post the chapters for both fics at the same time. I just have to get N.L. up to that point plot wise before I start writing the SuFin one. And to make it weirder and keep you guessing, the SuFin fic is going to be set in either the 1700s or 1800s. If you read Vigilant, this SuFin fic is where Gilbert's flashback in chapter 9 came from.**

**EDIT: I have a new poll up on my profile page. Please take a look at it.  
**

**Reviews:**

**~Everyone: I'm glad you all want to punch the family just as much as I do sometimes.**

**~themagnificantME: Best comment ever! Must share with everyone: "**_**Ever think Alfred should be shot? Just to be put out of his misery? WILLIAM SHATNERS CANADIAN! W00T! just thought I'd pop that in there."**_

**~PimpinSushi: I think by now, they're used to the pot. But I'm sure Arthur had a long talk with him.**

**~LithiumKiss: I know he's a little OCC, but he's being sweet for Matthew. The old Ottoman Empire will come out of him. I promise you that.**

**~Oliversgurl: you are very welcome!**

**~Falcon's Jade: When I end up writing the SuFin fic, it will describe Sadiq, Gupta, and Heracles' relationship better. They are all three very major players there. I'm still in the drafting and outline stages though. It's too early to write it in my opinion.**

**~C: Can you tell I use google translate?**

**OKAY! Almost a page of author's notes! Jeez guys! I love you all too! On to the story!**

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**

Gilbert didn't know he was being set up when he left the house that morning. It started the same as any. Ludwig screamed at him to wake up and be productive. Gilbert trudged up the stairs from the basement his brother let him have. Still in his boxers, he ate breakfast and swore at Ludwig's dogs. Damn, those filthy mutts were the devil! Then, he would dress, get on his laptop (which his brother bought), and watch television for the rest of the morning. About fifteen minutes before noon, he dressed and slipped on his flip flops before heading out in the weird way to Francis' house. In the cul-de-sac, they were neighbors and constantly visited each other. Last week, the Frenchman had invited him to lunch and even offered to pay. This was fine by Gilbert, who was tired of Ludwig's bitching for using his credit cards. Gilbert had a job (even though it didn't pay). Someone had to write down everything about his awesome life. Hopping up the veranda stairs, he knocked on the door.

For once, Francis, not one of his several maids, opened the door and rushed him in, "Hello, Gilbert! Come on, come on! We have to hurry."

"What? We have reservations or something?" Gilbert followed through the house. Unlike other Nation People, he found it very cool that literally three minutes ago he was in Berlin. Now, he could see Paris out the windows.

"Yes! Yes, we need to go now!" the Frenchman stepped out into the street and locked the door behind them.

"Fuck it's hot out here," Gilbert exhaled feeling his forehead already get sweaty from the humidity. "It's raining today in my country."

"That's great. Walk faster!" Francis broke into a brisk pace, but not enough to make him sweat. Gilbert smirked thinking he looked like the most flouncy power walker that ever lived.

A few blocks down, they stepped into a small bistro that was incredibly lackluster. Definitely not the upper class place Gilbert was expecting. In fact, the hostess never asked for their names and just pointed them in a direction. Rounding the corner into the dining room, Gilbert stopped and stared at the far table. Francis wove his way between the other guests and sat down with America and England already waiting. They all motioned for Gilbert to join them. The Prussian narrowed his eyes. They didn't have reservations. Francis didn't want the other two to wait. If he ran now, Gilbert could make it back to the Frenchman's house and break the door. He would be back in Berlin before they could catch him.

"Come on, buddy!" America called out in an overly friendly tone clustered together with a forced smile.

With caution, Gilbert worked his way over and stood beside the table. Looking to each of them, he raised an eyebrow, "I'm not sitting down until I find out what's going on here. Is this about the stain on America's rug?"

"What stain?" America suddenly looked very concerned.

"Nevermind," Gilbert pointed to Francis, "You little liar!"

"I'm still treating you, mon ami," the Frenchman motioned over a cute waitress and ordered drinks for them all.

Since it was a free meal, Gilbert slowly sat in his chair and placed his hands on the table.

England picked up a napkin and wiped a water spot from his spoon, "I say, Frog! Could you have picked a grungier spot to eat?"

"Well, Alfred would not have eaten anywhere if they did not have American like food," Francis sipped at his water. "The next closest American restaurant was on the other side of town."

"I can have sandwiches here, and no gross other stuff," America scrunched his nose. "Like frogs legs. Those are just weird."

Francis rolled his eyes to the younger blonde, "Your people eat frog legs in the southern part of your country."

"Doesn't mean I have to."

England pointed the cleaned spoon at America, "I should order one of everything and make you take 'Thank You' bites!"

"What! Arthur! I don't wanna!"

Francis scoffed, "What is this 'Thank You' bite?"

Arthur placed the spoon back on the table and straightened his silverware, "'Thank You' bites are where you try everything on your plate, whether you like it or not. Then, you thank the chef for his hard work in preparing the meal."

"Mattie and I called them 'Crusade Bites' when we were growing up in Arthur's house!"

Gilbert was too afraid to move. He was used to eating with Francis at least once a week, but America and England was making this too weird. Something was up, especially the way they kept looking at him. Their eyes glanced up and down Gilbert's features, taking in his appearance. The Prussian could see the wheels turning in their heads. A deep sick feeling settled in Gilbert's stomach.

"Whatever, Arthur," America held a hand up in England's face. "Let's just get to the point of why we're here. Oh, wait! There's the waitress. Can we order first? I'd rather talk on a full stomach."

Motioning over the waitress, Francis quickly ordered for all of them, ignoring protests from England. "You will eat whatever I order you, Angleterre. Then you will say thank you to the chef!"

An awkward silent blanketed the table as the three countries returned their gaze to Gilbert. Though he was awesome and could do anything, he couldn't shake the growing queasiness in his belly. They wanted something from him, and he was afraid to find you what. Snatching a piece of bread, Gilbert nibbled on it as Francis leaned in close to him. The blonde's smile curled up into a coy look as he gandered into the albino's eyes. Finally, Gilbert broke the silence, "What the hell is going on here? What did I do?"

"East Germany," Arthur tried to use a very civil tone. "Or would you rather me address you as Prussia?"

"Just Gilbert is fine. I'm not really East Germany anymore… or Prussia."

Clearing his throat at the awkward mistake, Arthur continued, "It's not about what you did. It's about what we would like you to do. Recently, we upset Matthew."

The bile in Gilbert's stomach turned to heat and rose to his chest. He took a moment to glare at each of them, "Is Matthew okay? What did you do to him?" He felt a hint of satisfaction seeing three of the strongest nations in the world lower their heads in shame.

England was the first to answer. His face was very sad and matched Francis', "We have forgotten him so much that we didn't realize how much he has changed and grown up. He's not our sweet, little boy anymore. He has grown into a fine young man, with a good heart, and a great mind."

America laced his fingers together and leaned on the table. In a very rare, calm voice, he muttered, "I don't really know him anymore, and I share a border with him. Like about him being gay… All those times I took him out on the town, it makes sense now why he never went home with any of the women. He had to hide himself all this time trying to be what _we_ wanted him to be."

Gilbert just nodded as he listened. These were all points he and Matt had discussed before. For years, he told Matthew to not get down over his family. But the Canadian wanted to make them proud like they were of America. England and Francis had their heads so far up America's ass, they couldn't see the beautiful and loving other son. "What does any of this have to do with me?"

Francis smiled to his friend and patted his arm, "I have shared a little secret with Arthur and Alfred. Remember? You told me a few years ago?"

Gilbert's heart stopped, his eyes wide. How could he? How could Francis do that to him? He could feel the same heat rise again, but this time it was a mix of both anger and embarrassment. Slapping his palms on the table, he couldn't care less about causing a scene, "That was supposed to be between you, me, and Antonio! I trusted you to keep that to yourself! You fucking, backstabbing-"

"Wait! Let us explain!" Francis held up his hands with fear that Gilbert might punch him. "We all approve of your feelings for Matthew! In fact, that's why we had you come here today!"

Gilbert frowned, not amused. He still hated that one of his best friends told others his secret. "Fine. I'm listening."

"We would like for you to take Matthew out on a date," America grimaced as he spoke, not close to matching his friendliness from before. "Out of all the Nations we considered, we think you are the best choice to date my brother. A perk for us, you already like him."

"You… you want… what?" Gilbert stuttered shaking his head in disbelief. He scratched his head as the anger seeped out of him. They wanted him to date Matthew, the person he had lusted after for centuries. "I want to make sure I don't have a crazy gnome in my ear. Can you repeat what you just said to me?"

America spoke slow as if Gilbert was a child, "We. Want. You. To. Take. Out. Mattie."

"I. Am. Not. A. Retard." the Prussian glared at him. Taking a calming breath, he continued, "Look, I don't think I can do this. I don't think that things are going to work out." Apparently, the family didn't know that Matthew was dating Sadiq.

"What do you mean?" Francis flicked his wrist and laughed. "I think you are perfect! I have known you for centuries, and I know my little boy."

"Apparently you don't." Gilbert scoffed. Should he tell them? Did he have the right to spoil Matthew's secret?

"Please," Arthur held up a hand for silence. "We don't need your sarcasm. We know that you are tight on cash, so we will pay for the date."

"I don't need your money."

America laughed, "Whatever! We'll give you what you-"

"I don't need your money!" he shouted back, silencing the American. "Look, I really don't think he's… Matthew is…"It wasn't like him to feel so emotional. But suddenly, Gilbert had the greatest urge to cry right there. Instead, he choked out, "It won't work." He wanted to run. He needed to escape. Deep down he knew there would be nowhere to go. What made him feel worse was he couldn't tell them about Sadiq. Who was he to ruin Matthew's happiness?

America reached across the table to pat Gil's arm. Realizing he couldn't reach, he pulled his arm back, "Not with that attitude! You will never woo Mattie being a Debbie-Downer like that! Buck up, Gilbert. You're already friends. It's not like you would have to get him to like you."

In a weird way, America was right. Gilbert looked down and played with his silverware. He and Matthew had been friends for centuries, ever since the Canadian was a child. They were great together, though Gilbert knew that Matthew was put off every time he would hit on Canada. It had turned into a joke now. Matt would just laugh it off, Gilbert would pretend to be kidding, and they would continue on their way.

Gilbert deserved Matthew more than that that filthy Turk! He remembered Matt after all of these years. He remembered the Matt of today in the past. Sadiq apparently didn't. From what Gilbert could tell from Matthew's email, facebook, and phone calls, Turkey did not remember the past. Maybe this was a good idea. Even if nothing romantic came from it. The Canadian spent so much time now with the Turk it would be nice for Gilbert to see his friend.

"Okay," he muttered not looking them in the eye. "I'll do it."

* * *

It was a beautiful late summer afternoon in Canada, and Matthew was preparing for the night. It was a silly tradition, but he and Sadiq were celebrating their four month anniversary. The Turk was going to come over and stay the night. This wasn't a big deal normally; most of the time Sadiq slept in the guest room. This time was different. Matthew was going to show Sadiq his bedroom, and they were going to sleep in the same room. For him, it was the first time ever he would share a bed with someone who wasn't a friend. Of course he had bunked up with Alejandro or Gilbert after a wild night, but this was his first time with someone he dated.

He prepared dinner with care. After laying out the second layer of lasagna noodles, he picked up a spoon to add a layer of ricotta when the phone rang. He put everything down and snatched up his cell phone. "Hello?"

"_Hey Matthew. It's Gilbert."_

"Gilbert! How are you? I haven't heard from you in so long!" Matt slipped on his Bluetooth headset and set the phone back down.

"_I'm alright. I just had something I needed to ask you."_

"What is it?" Matt picked up the spoon and dished out wobbling globs of cheese.

"_We haven't spent too much time together."_

Matthew pursed his lips. This was true. He hadn't seen much of his friends since he started dating. Sadiq consumed his world. "Sorry, I've just been busy."

"_That's okay. I know what it's like to have that new romance and being excited. It's normal."_

Spreading the ricotta thin, he sighed, "I'm sorry. I do miss you guys."

"_That's why I'm calling. You want to…"_ After a long sigh, Gilbert's voice dropped low and spoke quickly, "_Do you want to go get dinner or something and catch up?"_

Matthew felt his smile grow wide and nodded though Gilbert couldn't see it, "I would love to. You want to do it the day after tomorrow? Would that be okay?"

Gilbert responded much perkier, _"Sounds great! How about I come over about 6 p.m. your time? Then we'll go anywhere you want. I'm paying."_

"You don't have to pay."

"_I want to."_

"With Ludwig's cards?"

"_No… It's mine. I only use it on special occasions."_

Matt picked up the bowl of ground beef. Instead of the normal sausage he would cook into his lasagna, he changed up the recipe to make it halal—the Muslim equivalent to kosher—for Sadiq. As he spread the layer of meat, Matthew couldn't help but to grin at Gilbert's words. "You're really too sweet. How about we split the bill and call it even?"

"_Sounds good. So what awesome things are you up to today?"_

"I am cooking dinner. Sadiq is coming by tonight, and I'm going to show him my room."

"_Oh-Ho! Big step there Matt. Sure you're ready for that? Four months is a very, very short amount of time."_

"Do you think it's too short?" Matthew put the bowl down and turned away from the pasta. "Am I moving too fast? I feel like I'm moving too fast. Sadiq is just so comfortable with everything that happens with us. I still blush when we kiss!"

There was a long pause. Matthew didn't know that Gilbert was scheming. _"It's totally too fast. You don't want to be considered loose like your father."_

"Definitely not."

"_It might be okay to show him the room, but then if he tries anything, nip it in the bud right there and then."_

"Okay, I will. Thank you, Gilbert. This means a lot to me. I just don't have any experience in this sort of thing."

"_I got your back. Always call me for help!"_

Picking up the ground beef bowl, Matthew returned to filling the pan. "You know I will. Okay, I need to get back to work. I have to get this food in the oven so I can go get dressed."

"_Alright. See you the day after tomorrow."_

"I can't wait."

"_Neither can I."_

_

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_

**Please Read and Review. The next chapter, I'm upping the rating to M. If this is a problem, sorry.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys! Sorry for the sudden long break. I had a family emergency to tend to and was away about three weeks. I also got two jobs so finding time between them is tough. And then you know… I have to actually write this stuff and that takes time. But I'm back now and should be back to a normal schedule.**

**I have a new poll on my profile page. Please make sure to take a look at it. And I want to know what you guys think about it. Please leave your thoughts in the review or message me. I want to know if this idea is completely dumb or not.**

**The reason I haven't put up a new Vigilant yet is I'm working on outlining the rest of the story. I have it outlined through the current chapter, but I didn't get past that. I have a bunch of ideas, and I'm researching how to cure Matt's mental illnesses. Please just be a little bit patient on that piece.**

**There is a new chapter up of Trainer, Coordinator, and Breeder. I'm pretty proud of it. It's Gilbert's back story. Already people are a bit surprised of the violence in a Pokemon fic. I guess I should have said at the beginning it's like Pokemon for adults. There will be sex in it later. Just FYI.**

**The rating on this fic is going up to M this chapter. Just a heads up!**

**Reviews!**

**~Starember19: I love how you love on Gilbert in one sentence and hate on him the next. Prussia is still Prussia and will fight for what he wants. Though I hope that I can help show this more in the future with Gilbert. My theory about him is this: Gilbert's outer shell is the "I'm Awesome! 5 meters! Muhaha!" guy that you see on the anime. That is the scheming Prussia side. Once you break through that shell, he has this soft inside that's shy and a little awkward. It's how he can be so gentle around Matt in one scene, then turn and be Prussia in the next.**

**~Utaria: I understood your explanation. Don't worry. I've tested this threesome in role plays. I know it works very well.**

**~Everyone: Don't worry, Gilbert will be okay.**

**On to the story!**

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Sadiq's belly pressed against his waistline full of delicious lasagna. Dinner had been wonderful since Matt was such a great cook. At the moment, Matthew stood inside in front of his sink scrubbing at the pasta pan. He had insisted that the Turk didn't worry about dishes, and that Matt needed to clean this one glass pan before the food stuck. So Sadiq sauntered outside to sit on the Canadian's back porch to enjoy the twilight as the setting sun cooled off the summer day.

Sadiq gazed over Matt's garden. Vancouver was drastically different from Ankara. It was so peaceful here unlike his home. At all hours of the day, he could hear people shouting from the street vendors, car horns, and police whistles as they directed traffic. Matt's home was different. He had taken the time to buy up enough land and have it fenced off. Even though he lived in the suburbs, the back yard held a fairly large flower and vegetable garden. A small pond laid down the hill while several acres of forest surrounded the property. Matt mentioned he wanted to make sure Kumajirou had plenty of space to roam around without disturbing the neighbors. And of course the shed where Matt stored and worked on his motorcycles stood in the yard.

The only interruption of the small countryside was Matthew's neighbor. Her fence pressed close to his garden. She was a cranky old woman with wild hair. A scowl smeared across her face. She rocked in her creaking chair on her back porch. Slowly, she stroked the cat in her lap and glared at Sadiq. This woman gave him the creeps.

The back door opened, and Matt stepped out with two glasses of ice tea. Handing one to Sadiq, he sat on the porch step beside him. "We're going to have a nice evening tonight. It's starting to feel great out here." He sipped his drink.

Sadiq glanced over again to the old woman then back to Matthew, "Your neighbor is freaking me out. She's just… staring at me!"

"Oh, that's Mrs. McGillicutty. She hates me," he answered like nothing was wrong.

"She hates you? Why?"

"Watch this," Matthew stood up and waved cheerfully calling over to the woman. "Hello Mrs. McGillicutty! How are you today?"

This woman answered in the most stereotypical Canadian accent Sadiq had yet to hear in all of his time visiting Matt, "Oh, I see it's another one of you gays, eh?"

"You could say that madam!" Matthew remained pleasant. "This is my boyfriend."

"One of them Mexicans, eh? Too many of them around."

Sadiq frowned. This woman was senile and racist!

Matthew laughed his voice thick with fake kindness, "No, madam. He's from Turkey."

Her eyes narrowed at Sadiq, "Even worse! One of them Arabs!"

"Mrs. McGillicutty, I just wanted to let you know something," Matthew's smile turned into a Russia like grin. "If I see your cat in my yard again messing up my flowers, I'll let my bear eat him."

The old woman palled at that, "I should report all you gays and that bear of yours!" She hurried back inside with her pet slamming the door and yanking the blinds closed.

Matt sat back down again and calmly sipped his tea. Glancing to his boyfriend, he frowned, "What? What's that shocked look for?"

"You threatened her with your bear."

He shook his head, "Kuma would never hurt it. He doesn't like the taste of cats."

Sadiq smirked and leaned against a porch railing, "You really surprise me a lot. You're so sweet and kind and gentle, and then you threaten your neighbor like that."

"She's a cranky old woman whose one goal since her husband died is to watch me and criticize me. I know she's lonely, and I've tried so hard to be nice to her." Matthew ran a hand through his hair. "But damn she's stubborn."

Sadiq snickered at him and looked over the blond. The redden sun made those purple eyes glow darker to deep indigo hues. Every time they looked into his eyes, Sadiq still felt that same charge surge through him. That energy felt exactly how it did all those months ago when they slammed into each other in the hall. Sadiq had lost many nights thinking about that charge. He would pull up Matthew's photos from emails and videos that the blonde sent him. There was something about those eyes that struck a very deep cord in him. It was like he had told Matt on his first date, it was like remembering a very distant memory Sadiq couldn't quite grasp.

"Sadiq?"

The Turk snapped his head up and glanced to his boyfriend, "Sorry, I sort of zoned out there for a moment."

"It's okay."

A scratching sound rapped on the back door. Matthew stood up and opened it.

Kuma gandered up to him and cocked his head, "Can I lay outside with you guys? It's stuffy in here."

"Sure," Matthew moved aside and let his bear out.

Kuma clomped down the stairs and sprawled on the grass, "Ahh, much better. I love this weather."

Sadiq rolled his eyes, "You're probably the only polar bear I know that is pro global warming." Once Matthew sat down again, Sadiq draped an arm around his shoulder and pulled the blonde close.

Matthew snuggled into his side and sighed contently, "This is nice."

"Yeah, it is. I'm excited to see this mysterious room of yours."

Matthew squeezed him a little harder, "It's not that great."

"You don't understand," Sadiq gently combed his fingers through Matt's hair. "Because you have done so much to avoid me seeing your room, this image of what it's going to be like keeps growing more and more ridiculous in my head. I personally believe that you have unicorns, the Holy Grail, a small circus, and all of the nukes from the Middle East that America couldn't find in there."

Matthew laughed leaning more against the Turk. He kissed Sadiq's cheek, "No, nothing like that. I guess… Well, you'll see tonight. I don't want to talk about it. Just… I'm only giving you two minutes to laugh, and then you can't laugh anymore!"

Sadiq pulled him close and chuckled against Matthew's neck, "Alright, I promise I will keep all laughs, snorts, and chuckles within the two minute time limit." With a smirk, Sadiq nibbled on the soft skin and relished the surprised gasped from his boyfriend. That was one of many good things about dating a virgin. It was easy to make him flustered and turned on. Like with what happened last week…

* * *

_Matthew gawked at the article of clothing that his boyfriend held up. Sadiq had came to visit him and the pair were shopping around Vancouver. Currently they were looking in a clothing store popular among teenagers around Matt's human age. It was a store Matthew had passed several times, but rarely shopped in. After a few minutes of browsing, Sadiq had found something he wanted his young boyfriend to try on. Matt eyed the clothes with disdain. "Those are jeggings!"_

"_I think they would look good on you," Sadiq ran his hand over the material. "You're skinny and they would make your legs look amazing."_

"_You don't like my clothes?"_

"_Don't get me wrong. You're one of the few people who make sweater vests look good. It's just to try something a little different. You're always dressing older for your age. I can tell you were raised by England! I want to see what it would look like if you actually wore clothes for a nineteen year old. Come on, Matt. You sometimes wear bow ties with your formal clothes."_

"_Bow ties are cool," mumbled the Canadian knowing that Sadiq wouldn't catch the reference. Jeggings were a drastic difference to his normal outfits. He had never been a fan of tight clothes. They felt so constricting and flaunted the out of shape parts of his body._

_Sadiq realized he wouldn't win this battle and hung the pants back on the rack, "Alright, no trying on things for fun. I just wanted to see you in something new. That's all."_

"_If I try them on, I don't have to buy them right?"_

"_You don't have to try them on."_

_Matthew ran a hand through his hair as he considered the pants. Picking them up again, he lightly tugged the waistband and tested the stretchiness, "Okay fine. I'll try them on. This doesn't make me a hipster."_

"_What the hell is a hipster?"_

_Shuffling to the dressing room, the Canadian closed the door behind him. It wasn't a big deal. They were just a pair of pants. He undid his belt and slipped out of his own clothes. The jeggings were stretchy. After a little wear, they probably wouldn't be so tight. Though, he did see a problem right away. There was no way to wear these things with his boxers on._

"_Damn," he groaned to himself looking down at his plaid underwear. He never considered in his life going commando. But if it was only for a few minutes to make Sadiq happy, it was okay. He shoved out thoughts of how many other guys' junk had touched the insides of the jeggings as he slipped out of his boxers. Now the tough part: actually getting these tight things on._

_He didn't want to sit on the bench in the changing room with his bare bottom. Who knows what had touched that thing? Leaning back, his shoulders rested on the wall to help steady himself. Matt slipped his foot into one of the jegging legs. Right away he met resistance. His foot followed by his calf both snagged in the material. Just as he thought they were too small for him, Matthew figured out how to pull the fabric up his leg inch by inch. After a few minutes, he had one side on. _

_Someone tapped on the door. Matthew huffed and glared at it, "Someone's in here!"_

"_It's Sadiq. Are you okay? You're taking a long time."_

"_These are hard to get on!"_

"_Okay, okay. Sorry. Take your time." _

_Matthew heard Sadiq walk away. This was ridiculous. Canada had fought in two world wars, recovered from the Halifax Explosion, got through a plethora of blizzards that rendered him helpless, and survived the European diseases from the settlers. He could put on a pair of jeggings damn it!_

_With a little more wiggling, hopping, groans, huffs, and sigh of discontent, Matthew finally buttoned the pants. He turned and looked himself up and down in the mirror. They were a bit uncomfortable since he had to do some tucking, but they weren't terrible. Sadiq was right. They made his legs look great._

_Matthew eased open the door and peaked out. Sadiq leaned against the wall in the dressing room and watched people mill about. Pushing the door open the rest of the way, Matthew stepped out and motioned to the jeggings. "How do they look?"_

_Sadiq's eyes trailed down his boyfriend's body as his mouth opened but no sound came out._

_A small, pleased blush fluttered on the Canadian's cheeks._

_Coming over, Sadiq slid his hands across Matthew's hips, around his sides, and tucked his hands in Matt's back pockets. A light growl slipped out, "Ooo, they're tight. I like them. You look… you look so amazing in those."_

"_You think?"_

"_Oh yeah," the Turk leaned in as his voice dropped low, "You have no clue how many naughty thoughts just popped into my mind."_

_Matthew exhaled slowly and shuddered. They were probably similar to the things racing through the Canadian's head. Taking Sadiq's hand, Matthew glanced around to make sure the coast was clear. He yanked Sadiq into the dressing room._

_The moment the door closed, their lips locked together as they indulged in tasting one another. Sadiq slid his hands into Matt's back pockets again and pulled their pelvises together. Both moaned as the bulges in their pants caressed against each other._

_Matt's back pressed against the mirror and stared blearily up at his older lover. He adored when Sadiq's eyes darkened in lust. It made Matt feel empowered, that he could bring the once great Ottoman Empire into this kind of pleasure. Little Canada… who would have thought he could do this? _

_Sadiq pressed his entire body against Matt's, inhaling the scent he had came to adore. "You intoxicate me," he muttered into the Canadian's ear between small nibbles on the earlobe. _

"_Mmm, Sadiq," Matthew savored how the name lingered on his tongue. The Turk's hands drifted across his body and rested on Matt's hips. Sadiq pressed his thumbs into the hallow of Matt's hips making the young man squirm in his grasp. "Sadiq! These pants are getting too tight."_

"_Then let me help you with that," purred the Turk as he fingered the button._

_A loud rap on the door broke their concentration as a woman's voice called out, "Sirs! May I ask you both to come out here please?" It was a sales clerk for the store._

_Matt and Sadiq exchanged looks, both taking deep breaths to calm themselves. Opening the door, Matt frowned. Oh shit, it was the manager! She didn't look happy at all. "Sirs, I'm going to have to ask you both to leave. We received some complaints about you both moaning in our dressing rooms and making other customers feel uncomfortable."_

"_Um, um, um," Matt's mind raced trying to think of an excuse. "I couldn't get the pants on!" _

"_What?"_

"_These pants! They're so tight, I couldn't get them on. So my boyfriend here was helping me."_

_The Manager gazed from Matt to Sadiq and back to the Canadian. Her lips curled up into a small chuckle, "I see. I promise you're not the first customer to need help getting jeggings on. Honestly, I don't see the appeal of them. I apologize, gentlemen, for the inconvenience."_

"_No problem," Sadiq tried to hold in a snicker at the situation. _

_Matthew didn't find it amusing at all. His cheeks burned, and he could hear the other customers whispering about it. "I'm going to change," he mumbled and shuffled back into the dressing room._

_The Manager smiled coyly at Sadiq, "Too bad you're gay. I would have given you my number."_

"_I'm not gay," Sadiq leaned on the wall beside her. "I guess if you had to call it anything, I'm bisexual. And I wouldn't say no to your number."_

"_And cheat on your boyfriend?" she slinked past him. "I don't date cheaters."_

_Sadiq trailed his eyes down her backside and smirked. Crossing his arms, he waited patiently for Matthew to fight his way out of the jeggings._

_

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_

Matthew tilted his head away as he giggled, "Stop that! You're beard is tickling me!"

"Like this?" Sadiq nuzzled into the Matt's neck again, enjoying watching the blonde squirm. He laughed and sat back. He didn't want to push Matt too much. As eager as the young man was to participate in the physical parts of their relationship, he was just as easily pushed too far. Sadiq didn't want to go too fast for the virgin. So he settled for holding Matthew in his arms and watching the sun set over the trees.

"Thank you," Matt sank back against Sadiq's chest and kissed his cheek. "Though, I do like it. I wish I could grow a beard."

"You would look so ridiculous with a beard."

Kumajirou lifted his head, "You really would."

"Oh shut it you," Matt huffed and returned his gave to Sadiq. "Beards and body hair are just so manly, so masculine. You look like a man."

"You look like a man too," Sadiq shot back.

"I look like a pre-pubescent boy-"

"No you don't."

Matthew held up his arm and compared it to Sadiq's, "Look at your arms hair. It's dark and coarse and sexy! It's what makes men tall, dark, and handsome."

"Matthew," Sadiq ran a hand over the Canadian's arm. "You're skin is so fair and smooth, finer than any of my silks. With your hair and those eyes… which haunt me when I'm not with you, you're like an angel. If you had body hair to ruin that, you would look like France."

"Gross!" Kuma chimed in.

"You're beautiful and handsome in your own way," Sadiq concluded kissing Matthew's nose.

The blonde smiled slightly. Though he was still envious of Sadiq's manly looks, he loved how the Turk made him feel better about his appearance. Since they had formed their friendship and relationship, not once had Sadiq compared him to Alfred. In fact a few weeks prior, Sadiq spotted a photo of the North American brothers together and blurted out, "Oh, that's Alfred there? Huh? That's what you would look like if you were ugly." It was an amazing change to have someone other than Gilbert remember his name or not call him America.

"Hey Kuma," Matthew nudged the bear with his foot. He might not remember the bear's full name, but he could always remember Kuma. "It's going to be nice out tonight. Why don't you sleep outside?"

Kumajirou lifted his head as a toothy smirk appeared on his furry face, "Oh? You mean that you two are finally going to do it, and you want some privacy?"

"KUMA!"

"Ha!" Sadiq tossed back his head while laughing and slapped his knee. "Oh really? That's why I'm getting to see your room?"

"No! Maybe! I don't know!" Matthew stuttered and fiddled with his fingernails.

"Yes, Bear, if that's the case, you might want to be outside. Who knows if Matthew's a screamer," Sadiq leaned away from the blonde just in case he would get hit.

"Oh he's loud!" Kuma sat up. "When he whacks off, he keeps me up all night just calling out 'Ooooohhhh Saaadiq! Oooohhh!' I can't sleep at night!"

Matthew's face had become the darkest shade of red Sadiq had ever seen. Standing up, Matt stomped down and picked up the bear by the scruff of his neck, "Keep talking like that and I'll make it to where you'll sleep forever."

"Matt, put him down," Sadiq stood up and calmly walked to the blonde. Once Kuma was safely on the ground and had scurried away, Sadiq cupped his boyfriend's cheek and tilted his chin up, "Hey, why are you so embarrassed by that?"

"For Kuma to say something like that in front of you!"

"I do the same thing," Sadiq smiled and kissed Matt's eyes. "Whenever I think of you, it gets me hot. I've touched myself plenty of nights thinking about you, pretending it's you. It's normal. It just means that I'm attracted to you and that you're attracted to me."

"Really?" Matt sniffled as some relief washed over his face. "You do that while thinking about me?"

"Yes. It's nothing to be ashamed about. You're an adult with adult feelings. You have to find relief somewhere. It's actually quite healthy for men to do that," Sadiq tucked some hair behind the blonde's ear and grazed their lips together. In a low whisper, he spoke against Matt's lips, "So no more of this embarrassment, okay?"

"Okay." Matthew pressed his lips chastely against his boyfriend. Sadiq could feel the anxiety slipping out of him. To add to the comfort, he pulled Matt into a tight embrace. It wasn't sexual, but comforting, accepting, protecting to let his young lover know it was okay to feel this way.

As the kiss broke, Matthew stared up into Sadiq's eyes, "Want to go upstairs? See my room?"

"I thought you would never ask."

**Please Read and Review.**


	12. Chapter 12 Omake: Francis

**Hello! This is the first of many Omake chapters throughout this fic. These focus on side stories and other characters that will have interactions with Matt and Sadiq throughout the piece.**

**There! I did it! I updated Vigilant, N.L., and TCB all in one week! Now I can focus! I'm entering my novel into a contest due May 1st, and the winner gets a publishing contract. I have to clean up my manuscripts more, but I've had fanfics on the brain. Now that they're all updated, I don't have to worry about them for a while! I can write again!**

**Reviews!**

**~Calipsancat: The only reason I can write Sadiq so well is because we role play him and Matt almost every night! Love, love, love you tons! I miss you!**

**~XxAlysxX: As much as Arthur would hate to admit it, he is the more motherly one.**

**~Starember19: You're reading the end of the flashback right. Sadiq was hitting on the manager. Sure, you can use my idea! I have to edit my videos first. I CAN'T WAIT UNTIL THE NEXT CHAPTER OF DCYE! I'm super excited for it!**

**~MissTaken: Actually, lucky for you I'm dropping the ratio thing. N.L. has grown in popularity over Vigilant. Also, I'm still outlining the last half of Vigilant so I'll be slower on updating it.**

**On with the Omake chapter! By the way, this is set the same day as the previous chapter.**

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Francis lounged on his chaise and swirled his wine around in the glass. It was a hot summer afternoon in Paris. All of his windows were sealed tight, and the air conditioning was blasting. It still couldn't take away the edge of heat remaining in his house. Antonio lay on the couch across from him, his wine glass haphazardly dangled in his fingers. They had met up with Gilbert at the Frenchmen's home to prepare the Prussian for his date tomorrow. Though, Francis was surprised Gilbert wasn't more excited. He kept reassuring Antonio and Francis that it was only a friend date and nothing more. The Frenchmen always rolled his eyes and stated that wasn't the reason they set Gilbert up. It was going to be a night of romance!

"Oi! Amigo!" Antonio called into the next room. "How long does it take to put on a shirt and pants!"

"Shut up!" Gilbert snapped back. "I have my own clothes. I don't have to borrow any of Francis' for a casual dinner."

Francis scoffed and smelled his wine, "Those things you call clothes are deplorable! Only peasants in my country would wear those things! What do you call them again?"

Antonio chuckled to himself, "I believe they are called T-shirts."

"Ah yes! You are not wearing that, Gilbert! If you are taking out my precious son then you will look like a gentleman."

They could hear Gilbert grumble something in the next room.

Antonio sat up and crossed his legs, "So you had no idea that Matheo was queer?"

"Non..." Francis pouted as he watched his wine swirl around. "I guess I never thought about it before. But he was so upset at his birthday, and that filthy Turk was still in his house!"

"What is going on between them?" Antonio appeared concerned. "I have to say that I'm not the only nation to notice that they've been interacting more."

"I don't know. Mathieu claims that they're just friends," Francis ran a hand along his beard. "I feel like I owe it to him to believe him. He wouldn't do anything that would bring him harm."

"Sí, sí, he is not America," Antonio leaned over and laid his glass on the side table.

The door to the next room opened, and Gilbert stepped out. He wore a pair of red slack with pale pink pinstripes going down, a white chiffon button up, and a crimson trench coat that came down to his thigh with a white sash to tie at the waist. Gilbert also wore a deep scowl on his face.

"Oh mon dieu," Francis beamed and stood up. "You look wonderful! How do you feel?"

"Hot," Gilbert's frowned more.

Antonio was on his feet as well and circled around him with Francis, "Of course you're hot! You're in some of the best designer clothes."

Gilbert stepped away from them and unbuttoned the jacket. Sweat already seeped into the shirt, "No, I'm hot! Literally! I don't know why! Oh? Maybe because it's fucking SUMMER!"

The Frenchman tossed his hair, "To look beautiful is to suffer."

"I don't know why I'm even letting you two dress me," Gilbert shrugged off the jacket and threw it on the couch.

"Because red makes your eyes pop?" Antonio shrugged.

"I'm so hot they're gonna pop out of my sockets!" Gilbert set to unbuttoning the shirt and tossed it to join its cloth friend on the couch. "Seriously though, I'm taking advice from one guy who's boyfriend is in a constant state of PMS-ing, and the other hasn't been laid in two months!"

Antonio whirled around to Francis, his eyes wide in shock, "You have not slept with anyone in two months! Are you ill?"

"Non," Francis flopped down on his chaise. He had plenty of practice to not spill his wine. "I don't know what's wrong with the world! I've been acting the same way since the Renaissance! People should know this is how I am. I'm not one to settle down for personal relationships, but now even Arthur's not biting on to my advances."

"Losing Arthur, huh?" Gilbert crossed to the wet bar and poured himself a glass of water. "That's big. Isn't he like the only person that you don't have to woo to get into your bed other than us?"

Francis chose not to answer and took a long drink from his wine.

"Amigo," Antonio rubbed his shoulder. "Why don't you try another approach? Everyone expects you to... to-uhh..."

"Whore yourself out."

"Gilbert!" Antonio snapped. "Well, yes, but I wasn't going to be so blunt! You should rebuild your image. Start fresh! Show the world that Francis Bonnefoy can be a good boyfriend and even better under the sheets."

Francis mulled over the thought. It had been a while since he had one steady relationship. Arthur was always his on and off again lover, but were they ever "boyfriends?" Had he ever actually had one? He learned the ways of love from Ancient Rome, his first mentor. Since then, he constantly moved from one country to another following his loins rather than his heart. That was one point Rome had stressed: Never fall in love. Only fall onto a bed of beautiful men and women.

But Francis would be lying to himself if he didn't want to have a steady lover. Since most of the nations had started their shunning, a small hole of loneliness grew over time inside him. Maybe they were right. If he revamped his image, over time he could have as many willing nations with him again.

"Who do you think should be the person I need to date?" Francis stood and crossed to his wet bar, filling his glass to the brim.

Gilbert fanned himself with his hand, "Someone that would make you look good. What about Austria? He's proper."

Antonio shook his head, "No, he's married to Hungary."

"I know. I just like ruining that bitch's life."

"No, he's a little too stuff for my liking," Francis lay on his chaise once more. "He wouldn't open his legs no matter how much he wanted it."

Gilbert laughed, "True, true. What about someone more pure or someone that people wouldn't imagine you with?"

Antonio rolled his eyes, "I think the word you're looking for is naive."

Francis pursed his lips. That could be the route to go. Someone that wouldn't necessarily know his true motives. He sat in silence listening to Gilbert throwing out suggestions and Antonio shutting the options down.

"Japan?"

"Greece has his eyes on him."

"America?"

"Too stupid."

"Liechtenstein?"

"Do you want Francis to get shot?"

"Taiwan?"

"She's dating Hong Kong."

"Australia?"

Antonio opened his mouth, but then cocked his head, "Huh? Maybe. He's very cute, rugged, and kind. He has that sexy tan."

Gilbert sat up more and beamed to Francis, "And he's a pretty honest guy. Even though he lives in the Outback, I always see him holding doors for ladies, picking up trash, and helping out other nations at meetings. He carried half of Ludwig's books to a summit one time."

Francis felt himself smile, "He must get that from Arthur. A true gentleman. Alright! It's settled." He stood and raised a fist to a window. "If it's the last thing I do, I will make Australia my boyfriend!"

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**Please read and review.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Oh my god! When did I get to 13 chapters! This is awesome guys! Thank you all 1000 times over for your constant support! I really appreciate it!**

**I'm very excited to share with you guys what my friend is doing. She's going to draw me one scene from every chapter of N.L. She already showed me chapter one and I love it! As soon as she puts it on her deviantart, I'll share with all of you. Thank you Meggie my love! 3**

**Speaking of art, if you read Trainer, Coordinator, and Breeder, my other friend has done four pieces of work for me on her deviant. So if you want to see Gilbert as a pokemon trainer, please go to http:/ dreamer-of-midnight .deviantart .com/ (Connect the spaces)**

**This chapter has spoilers to Vigilant. You have been warned!**

**Reviews!**

**~MizukiCheese-kun: I'm glad that you like this, and thanks for picking it up! Did you get my message I sent you about Australia? I hope it helped!**

**~wolf of infinity: I don't feel any offense. I respect all of my comments, and I greatly appreciate hearing when things are not working for a reader. I have been debating about the omake chapters for a while, so it's good to hear another opinion. And if it was boring, it means that I'm not writing good enough material to hold my reader. I like to hear when my work is boring. It just makes me want to work harder so it's not. That just means I need to do better on the omake chapters.**

**~Everyone: I'm glad you guys like this France/Australia idea. Trust me, it's fun. Here's a good mental image of what's to come: Francis- Oh! Look at the kangaroos! *Australia takes out a gun and shoots one while Francis screams* Australia- There's dinner!**

**~XxDamned ForeverXx: I found out about Raki after I posted that author's note. Thanks for offering to translate for me! If I find anything I need, that would be really helpful! And yes, jeggings are like skinny jeans. They're tighter though. If you google "men's jeggings" there are some good pictures of them.**

**On with the story!**

* * *

Every step they took upstairs, Sadiq noticed Matthew dragging further and further behind. Even when he stopped outside the closed bedroom door, he waited for the Canadian to shuffle over and join him. All the nerves from the masturbation conversation a few minutes ago were back. "Matthew?" Sadiq touched his hand. "It can't be that bad."

"I'll let you decide. Remember, two minutes to laugh," Matt leaned against the wall with his back to the door. He looked like he was about to storm off to a battlefield. "Go on in."

Sadiq hesitated for a moment, unsure whether or not to push Matthew like this. But the Canadian had planned this night. Though it seemed silly to show off a room, Sadiq could tell this was a huge deal for his young boyfriend. No matter what was behind this portal, he would try his best not to embarrass Matthew. He eased open the door and flipped on the light, and swore he had just stepped into a merchandise booth at some nerd convention.

At first he thought Matthew had special wallpaper. Further inspection made him realize that every inch of the wall was plastered in anime, video games, and sci-fi posters, news articles, and pictures printed from the internet. Even the ceiling had a few posters tacked on.

In previous visits, Sadiq had seen Matthew's upstairs lounge. The room had floor to ceiling bookshelves packed with classic literature. This was different.

In Matthew's bedroom were six shelves full of comic books, gaming guides, and manga. He had more geeky books than the local book store. Lined up in front of them were a variety of figurines, models, and action figures from various TV shows and movies. Taking a few more steps into the room, he noticed the desk in the corner. The free spaces were cluttered with more figurines, but the computer was one of the fanciest pieces of machinery Sadiq had ever seen. The computer tower glowed with lime green LED lights like a piece of alien technology. It was obviously custom made for gaming. Beside the desk hung a flat screen high definition television. Under the television, a shelf held every gaming console that had ever been released in Canada along with the controllers. Sadiq turned and spotted the queen sized bed. Though the comforter was normal, a body pillow laid on top. It was a Pokémon pillow.

He didn't mean to, but Sadiq chuckled quietly to himself as he slowly rotated. Matthew was a nerd; he knew this, but Sadiq didn't realize the depth of his geekiness. In a way though, it was very cute and made the Turk like his boyfriend more.

Glancing back to the door, Sadiq frowned. Matt hadn't came into the room yet. The Turk trotted over and looked out. Matthew's hands covered his face while his eyes were squeezed tight. Total trepidation gripped him as if he was waiting for the end of the world to come.

"Matthew, sweetheart," cooed Sadiq as he touched the blonde's head. "It's okay. You have nothing to be scared of."

Matt peaked between his fingers as his voice cracked, "You don't think it's all stupid or shameful that an adult has all this stuff?"

"You're not quite an adult yet. You're only nineteen," Sadiq kissed his forehead and smiled against his brow. "This stuff is you. These are things that you love. So there is no shame in that. Now come on in and show me your room." He gently pried Matthew's hands from his face and pulled him in.

The Canadian dragged his feet and plopped on the bed. He pointed up to the ceiling at a model of the Death Star from Star Wars hanging from a string, "Watch your head for that. You're taller than me."

"That is pretty cool," Sadiq circled the model. "Did you make this?"

"Yes."

"Good job."

"Thank you."

"There's so much to process," Sadiq sat on the bed. "I honestly just don't know where to start with all of this. But there is something quaint about it." Brushing some hair out of Matt's face, he leaned in and kissed his cheek. "How about you distract me then?" He savored the innocent look as Matthew's eyes grew wide and a pink hue flooded his face.

_Innocence?_

He had seen a similar look before, but not from Matthew. For a brief moment he tried to recall that memory but discarded it just as quickly.

Sadiq traced his fingers along the soft skin of Matt's neck. A small sigh escaped those perfect pink lips, and a heat sank into the Turk's stomach. With a quiet growl, he lightly pushed Matt back and climbed on top of him. A small surprised gasp escaped his boyfriend, but the Canadian quickly giggled and wrapped his arms around his neck. They're lips met and melded together moments before their tongues flicked over each other.

Matthew quivered under him in anticipation making Sadiq more turned on. He pressed the bulges in their pants together, and both of them released drawn out moans. The Turk straddled his young lover careful to put all the weight on his knees and not Matt. Slipping his fingers underneath the hem of his shirt, he silently asked for permission to remove the article of clothing. Matthew bit his lip and nodded.

Sadiq took his time with each button. Leaning down, he kissed the pale skin that was revealed until he lay on his stomach between Matt's legs. He ran his tongue around the white flesh and worked his way back up to Matthew's chest. Sadiq smirked as he took one of the bright pink nipples in his teeth and nibbled on it. He loved that high pitch squeak that slipped out of his lover.

Sitting up, Sadiq pulled Matthew up and slid the shirt off of him one arm at a time. Taking his left hand, the Turk kissed each of Matt's fingers and nuzzled his hand. "You're so beautiful. You know that right?"

Matthew's smile grew wide as more shades of red flooded his cheeks, "Thank you. You're ridiculously handsome. How did I get so lucky?" He stroked Sadiq's beard lovingly.

Sadiq didn't comment right away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw them... the numbers on Matthew's arm. Of course he had seen them many times and had watched Matt apply makeup to his forearm to cover them up, but somehow they drew his attention this time. Matthew didn't talk about his time in the camps during World War II, though Sadiq knew it shaped him into the man he was today. Sadiq had never really looked at the numbers before. One number in the middle was much darker on his skin. It was the "6." Gently taking his arm, Sadiq ran his hand over the ink that scarred his lover's perfect skin, "Have you had this touched up? Why is it darker than the others?"

Matthew visibly shrank, the romantic moment killed instantly. Right away Sadiq wished he had asked at a different time. But the Canadian smiled sadly and traced his fingers over the 6. In a low voice that sounded much older than normal, he muttered, "I met a young girl on the train. She was about that age. Her mother and father had been killed, and she was alone in the world. I never learned her last name. There were probably people out looking for her—you know family and stuff. But I had no way of contacting them. Just in case she was the last person alive from her home, I made a vow that I would never forget her. So even if the other numbers fade away in time, I'll always get this one touched up so at least one person remembers her."

Sadiq ran his fingers through his own hair, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up... especially at a time like this."

"No, I'm glad you did," Matt took his hand and squeezed it. "It's something that you and I should be able to talk about. Also, I was never able to thank you before."

"Thank me? For what?"

Matthew bit his lips trying to find the right words. Crossing his legs, he sat up a little straighter before looking Sadiq in the eyes, "You were the first person to truly help me emotionally after I was returned to the Allies. Gilbert and Ludwig both tried, but they were far too upset over the entire thing to do much good. When I got back, Papa and Arthur and Alfred... they had no clue how to even begin to talk to me. They tried to sugar coat everything which just confused me more. Deep down, I knew something horrible had happened to me, but everything on the surface kept me from realizing it. Until that one day when you walked into my room."

Sadiq pursed his lips. He remembered that day too. Seeing the broken Canadian with his childlike eyes, skin hanging on his bones, and hair barely covering his head, he could hardly believe a person was sitting in front of him. Sadiq had grown too weary of how all the younger Allies were handling the situation.

Matthew squeezed Sadiq's hand once more, "I remember so clearly what you said to me. You took off your mask and looked me right in the eyes and said, 'It's not okay what's happened to you.' It was what I needed to hear. After that talk, the fog in my mind started to clear. I was able to finally heal and move on all because of you. So thank you, honey... thank you, Sadiq, for saving me. I could never repay you."

It was rare for Sadiq to be lost for words, so instead he pulled Matthew into his arms. Hugging him close, he inhaled the scent he cared for so much and kissed Matt's brow. They held each other for several moments as the understanding sank in. Sadiq might have saved Matthew all those years ago, but Matt didn't know something. Sadiq felt the same way too. He had become very old, though he didn't look it. The world had seemed darker and deceitful to him before. Cynicism crept into him as well as apathy. He had become comfortable to let the so called super powers ruin the human race, and Sadiq couldn't bring himself to give a damn. But then that one day when an angel ran into him, he knew life would change. The way Matthew viewed the world was far different than those around him. The other Nations spoke of battles and the strengths of their armies. Matthew sought for peace and loathed fighting. Simple things made him happy, and he believed the little miracles in life added up to greater things. _"Sadiq,"_ he had said once, _"That woman looked like she was having a bad day. I know she was a stranger, but she needed a compliment. Did you see how she smiled when I said I liked her dress?"_ This optimism was contagious, and Sadiq saw the power in this type of healing. Was it a power though? He couldn't explain it exactly, but there was strength in it. It might not be loud and booming like America, but Matthew's silent strength would be the force to hold the world and Sadiq's life together.

It was obvious how much it healed. The people who were drawn to Matthew were those who hurt the most. Gilbert had lost his country. Cuba had been lost in political tyranny, and now suffered for it. Almost no one trusted Russia. But at the last world meeting when Sadiq kept his distance so no one would find out their dating secret, he watched Matthew interact with the broken and battered countries. Every one of them left with a smile and more bounce in their step. For those few moments their woes had been lifted and soothed by the quiet power of Matthew Williams.

Sadiq tilted Matt's chin up and stared into those eyes that perplexed him so much. There was so much faith there; faith in Sadiq to not lead him astray as well as faith in their future together. "Thank you," Sadiq whispered into his lover's lips before kissing him gently. Laying Matt back, he pulled off his own shirt and cradled the Canadian close. "You have no idea what you do for me. You are the most... there are no words for it! But the way you have impacted me these last several months..."

"I can't have done that much," Matt sat up on his elbows with a slight frown. "I'm not really that great. Honestly, I don't know why you're even with me."

"Don't say that!" Sadiq cupped his cheek. "Honey, please don't say that. You have become so precious to me. I just want..." He bit his lip and watched his lover carefully. "I just want to consummate how I feel about you."

Matthew blinked a few times comprehending what was just said before he giggled. Wrapping his arms around Sadiq's neck, Matt kissed his brow, "You don't have to be so formal! I want... to do that too. Just... be gentle with me. I'm a virgin."

"I know you are. I promise we'll go slowly," Sadiq propped his head up on his elbow. "In fact, do you want to be on top or bottom?"

"Um..." Matt fully sat up and clutched his Pokémon pillow. "I think I want to be on bottom."

"It will hurt more though if you're on bottom especially for your first time."

"I know," he sighed gripping the cushion tighter. "But I just can't imagine taking you our first time together. I know that you'll take your time and make sure I'm prepared properly."

Sadiq smirked and pushed himself up to his knees. Leaning in, he poked Matt's cheeks, "How come you know so much about all this stuff?"

"Fanfiction... and porn..."

The Turk lowered his head to poorly hide his snicker.

Matthew smacked him with the pillow, "Don't judge me!"

Catching his wrist, Sadiq fluidly tugged the Canadian down and topped him. He straddled Matt once again and tossed the pillow to the side, "I've already told you, I think the nerd stuff is cute. I'm not judging you... it just turns me on more."

As he leaned in to claim his lover's lips, he saw it again: that flash of innocence in Matthew's eyes. Sitting back up quickly, Sadiq watched them a few moments. What was that? Why did it stop him in his tracks? Here he was about to make love to the most amazing man, but these Allah forsaken eyes stood in the way! Why?

He slapped the bed in frustration.

Matthew cringed away, worry and slight fear coating his features.

Sadiq knew that fear. It was the same trepidation that gripped other nations when they remembered his old Ottoman Empire days.

That's it! Sadiq gasped and covered his mouth.

* * *

_Heracles clawed at the sheets trying to get away, but he was no match. Sadiq yanked the boy back under him striking him across the face._

_The boy cried out. He cringed away and wailed his apologies to the Empire holding him in his place. But this would not be enough._

_A low, fierce sound rose in Sadiq's throat as he yanked the cloth away from the boy's nether regions, "I am your master! How dare you defy me? You brought this on yourself, boy! I'll teach you what it means to disobey your master!"_

"_Help! Someone!" Heracles tried his best to shove the Empire away, screaming for Egypt or anyone else nearby to save him. No one was coming._

_Gripping him tight, Sadiq plunged into Heracles. The little boy's eyes widen in pain as his virginity was ripped away from him. With a sickening grin, Sadiq watched the innocence die with each thrust._

* * *

"Sadiq?" Matthew reached up his hand shaking. "What is it? You're scaring me."

That's what the spark was. The spark that always drew him to Matthew was innocence. Thinking back, he always loved virgins the most as an Empire. It was the opportune time to flaunt his power. Was that what he had done with Matt? Had he been drawn to the boy's innocence just to claim him?

No! He couldn't do it. Not only Heracles but several other nations and human alike had suffered under Sadiq's wrath. He couldn't watch that light perish from another victim's eyes ever again.

Scrambling off the bed, Sadiq grabbed his shirt and yanked it on, "I have to go. I have to get out of here."

Matthew floundered trying to get out of the bed and staggered to his feet, "What's going on? Sadiq! What is it?"

"Just stay away from me!" he shoved Matthew back regretting it a moment later.

Shock and pain sunk into the blonde's features as he shook his head in confusion, "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing! I just... just... Stay away from me! We shouldn't see each other anymore!" Sadiq turned and sprinted out of the bedroom. He heard Matthew cry out for him, but he didn't stop until he stumbled down the stairs into the living room. Catching his breath, Sadiq listened. He could hear Matthew crying upstairs and the sound of the bed creaking as his lover collapsed on it. Gritting his teeth, Sadiq strode to the door to the cul-de-sac leading to all of the Nation People's houses.

Should he go back up? Try and fix this mess before it got out of hand? Every sob that escaped Matthew cut Sadiq deeper and deeper. But how would he ever find the right words? Matthew didn't deserve a raping and pillaging monster like him. He deserved a better man who would take care of him, someone who would make him smile and laugh. The world would become much sunnier and brighter when Matthew would find that man... and it wasn't Sadiq.

Turning the doorknob, he stepped out into the weird way. With every step back to his house, Sadiq Adnan blinked back tears for the love he left behind.

**Please Read and Review.**


	14. Chapter 14

**You guys are amazing! Because of you guys, I reached 200 reviews on this story. I love you all. Honestly I do. **

**So there probably won't be any updates until after November. It's NaNoWriMo and I want to focus on my novel. Sorry about that guys, but my book takes first precedence over fanfiction. I really want to finish my first draft before the end of the year if I can.**

**Like I said last chapter, my friend is drawing a scene from each chapter of Northern Lights. Here is chapter one. Go take a look and give her a nice compliment! http:/ commanderzorkac. deviantart. com/ art/ NL-Ch-1-210990769 (Just connect the spaces)**

***Insert shameless plug here* Hey guys! I got a tumblr! I write blogs about anime, the writing process, nerdy things, and everything else in between. Since I'll probably be independently publishing my novel, I'm trying to build a fan base with a blog. *Stares at all of you* Follow me if you want. Just connect the spaces below:**

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**Reviews!**

**~Mustsay: _"I find Sadiq's helping Canada out after the concentration camp somewhat ironic considering the business with the Armenians." _I know it's ironic. It's going to be address in Vigilant, but I didn't want to give away too much from that story. **

**~wolf of infinity: The ending is a little rushed. I get so excited to share things with you guys that I sometimes don't develop ideas and parts all the way through. Also, buckle down for the next few chapters. The misunderstanding stuff is going to be in this chapter, the next one, and possibly 16. I'm still working out where to break chapters 15 and 16.**

**~XxAlysxX: What do you mean by "_Just watch out for Aussie's __bogan side and planking__?"_ I'm not familiar with this phrase.**

**~commanderzorkac: My love, you were my 200th review and I couldn't be happier about it. Thank you for kicking my ass when I'm stuck in a rut with writer's block (and for talking yaoi and Harry Potter with me). **

**~meriyaliz: Can you tell I'm from the south in the U.S.? LOL! After I wrote the chapter with the snow, a friend of mine from Seattle called me up and told me I was wrong. She said that Seattle and Vancouver were a couple hours away and it never snowed there. So, we'll just say it was a freak storm that year! But on a more serious note, thank you for your very kind review. It means a lot to me, and it's a huge complement that I (someone from America) brought you (someone from Canada) to a tearing up state. It's not my country, but I do love Canada and not just the characters. My friends in Ontario say that I'm an honorary Canadian. Maybe that's why I can write Matt the way I do. But thank you again. It's much appreciated! **

**~Piggy McHoggie: I know it's silly to worry about how I characterize Turkish stuff, but it's a big portion of Sadiq's life. It's his culture and what makes him tick. I just don't know enough about it so I'm afraid to offend. Islam and Turkish culture are things that Matthew will have to learn about Sadiq as well. Matt has some secrets that won't jive well with Sadiq because of religion. I just want to portray him correctly.**

**~Utaria: I read all my reviews multiple times. I definitely had time for yours. Thanks for taking the time to review. I appreciate it!**

**~Lovely: HAHA! I have converted thee! Yessss! Thanks for picking it up. I would love to see your TurCan work. Let's exchange tumblrs!**

**~There's No Cure for The Insane: A oneshot for me! *Squee!* Um... I've been getting into Scotland/Canada recently. Like how Matt is the only person who can calm Scotland down with his moe powers. And Scotland is like crazy protective of him. When it comes to human names, I like the fan name "Alasdair" best for Scotland. Is that okay?**

**~Autumn Eclipse: Harry Potter, Hetalia, and Glee! We love the same things! New best friend!**

**~Warpath Grizzly: Philips CD-i! No, no Matt does NOT have one of those. Oh lord, those things are derpy.**

**~Cynical Gummy Bear: "**PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF YAOI CONTINUE." **I shall right now!**

**On to the story! This chapter is for all of you! Thank you again! **

* * *

Breathe... Breathe... Breathing crap that bruder does. Though, he never does it right. Ludwig would never admit to doing yoga to help calm his nerves. He only does the positions that make him appear manly, but honestly he still looked like an idiot. Add that to the "Things to make fun of Ludwig" list.

Gilbert opted not to wear the clothes Francis and Antonio set him up in. Honestly if it was just going to be a friend date, why did he have to look so fancy? Friend date, an awesome friend date! He sighed knowing the truth. In his hand was a bouquet of lilies. After probing at Francis, Gilbert found out they were Matthew's favorite. But the Prussian added his own touch. Poking out between the white petals were pastel buds of Forget-me-nots. They were flowers that were cherished by both Germans and Canadians. It was more sentimental than Gilbert usually was. But this was probably his last ditch effort to weasel himself into Matt's heart.

Though, he knew that it was a far cry. Matthew's entire world was quickly succumbed in a certain Turk. Gilbert hated that guy who never noticed the Canadian before and took his Mattie away. Unlike Sadiq, Gilbert dedicated centuries to Matt and waited for him to be old enough to date. It sounded creepy, but Matt and he were meant to be together. Who the hell was this masked freak who just came into Canada and ravished the Prussian's hopes and dreams?

Though they only really knew each other through trade and far away rumors, Gilbert remembered the Ottoman Empire and the horror stories that came from the east. Luckily his precious Prussia never had to cross Turkey. The very few times Gilbert and Sadiq met in the past was mostly for business. But there was that one night…

He frowned. The one night that had been decided that Matthew was his. He hadn't even met the boy at that point, but he was told to look for a child with Francis. They were to be together. Sadiq had been there too, but luckily he didn't remember. Gilbert stared up to Matthew's house with more resolve. The fact Sadiq didn't remember that time proved that Matt was Gilbert's alone. Now he would claim his love.

Only awesome people don't knock right away on doors. He stared at the wood frame and licked his dry lips. Awesome people never wore Chap Stick either. Dry lips are cool. With resolve, Gilbert knocked on the door and held his breath.

It took several minutes, but finally Matthew opened the door. Every protective gene in Gilbert awoke as he saw the young man. The Canadian's eyes were red and puffy and he looked exhausted from crying all night. His face swelled and a bit of dried ice cream stuck to his chin. Glancing past him, Gilbert spotted the empty chocolate pudding and ice cream containers on the living room table and floor. They were surrounded by piles of used tissues. No on hurts his friend. This Prussian was out for blood. But first he needed to take care of Matthew.

"Gilbert?" his voice was hoarse.

"What happened?" Gil didn't mean to sound so threatening. "What happened!"

"Oh no! We were going to have dinner together," Matthew pulled away and became teary. "I can't believe I forgot that. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Don't be mad at me." Breaking into tears, he covered his face and sobbed.

Holding his tongue, Gilbert stepped inside and pulled Matthew into a hug. "I am not mad at you. I'm mad at whatever asshole made you cry." He stroked the soft blonde hair and whispered into the locks, "Forget about the dinner. I'm here with you tonight. I got you."

The words broke Matthew. He gave a great tremble and succumbed to his friend. Heavy tears sunk into Gilbert's shirt, but he didn't mind. They were Matt's tears, and the Prussian did something which was rare for him. He prayed. He prayed to whoever was listening to lift this burden from his dear friend.

* * *

Holding out the cup to Matthew, Gilbert took a seat beside his friend. They sat on Matt's back porch together deciding it was a good night to watch the moon rise. Ever since Gilbert had been released from Russia after the Cold War, this house was one of the few places he felt truly safe. Matt and he spent several nights sitting in the same spot. They would talk through the emotional trials both had overcome, and sometimes sit in silence just gawking at the stars. Silence was a rare gift for Prussia.

Matthew sipped his tea, "Thanks for making this. I'm sorry I didn't help much."

"It's okay. I've been here enough times to know where most of your stuff is."

"Then why don't you ever help me cook?"

"I suck at it."

Putting his cup down, Matthew laid his head on his pulled up knees and looked past Gilbert. The flowers he brought sat in a vase in the kitchen window, "Those are lovely. Thank you."

"No problem, Birdie. You deserve them," he leaned back on the stairs. "Francis sort of helped me with them."

"Papa is the reason I love lilies. He would put them in my baths as a child so I would smell like them all day. But those Forget-Me-Nots were a very nice touch."

"You're welcome," Gilbert couldn't help but to grin. He still needed to find out what had happened. Gil assumed it was something with Sadiq, but he needed to be sure. Though, at this moment Matt appeared to not want to talk about much. The Prussian would wait a little longer before pushing the issue. "It's a nice moon rising."

"What?"

Gilbert pointed to the celestial object hanging low in the sky, "The moon. It's sort of pretty how it's a crescent and all."

Matthew stiffened up and clutched his knees. In a low voice, he mumbled, "I hate the moon."

In all the time he had been with him, Gilbert had never heard Matthew say he hated anything as simple as the moon. Sure, Matt hated war and people getting hurt, but the moon? What the heck? "Did you just say that?"

"Yes, I hate the moon." He leapt up to his feet and shook his fist in an overdramatic way. If it wasn't happening in real life, Gilbert would laugh. He instead watched Matthew's face flush red as he screamed, "Do you hear that moon! I hate you! I hate everything about you! I hate the stupid crescent shape and I hate the stupid white star beside it and the red color! I hate YOUR moon!" Tears trickled down his cheeks and he stomped his feet on the stairs, "Do you hear me! I hate your moon with your dumb beard and your dumb eyes and your voice! And your scent! And everything! I HATE YOU!" His entire body shook with rage and sorrow. He sunk back down to the steps and covered his face as he sobbed.

Gilbert was speechless. How did someone awesome respond to that? He couldn't tell Matthew to walk it off or just say "Fuck them!" and move on. Matt was far too sensitive to do something to that nature. So, Gilbert did something a bit un-awesome.

Wrapping his arms around Matthew, Gil pulled him into his lap and cradled his best friend to his chest. For the first few moments, the blonde didn't say anything. His arms just wrapped around Gilbert's middle and relaxed. Some tears still escaped; the overly emotional sobbing was at bay once again. In the smallest voice, Matthew said, "Sadiq left me."

"What?" Gilbert fought back a growl. He couldn't lose his temper at this moment. Matthew didn't need that from him. He made a mental note to sucker punch Sadiq. "Why, why would he do that? I thought you guys were doing so well."

"Me too," Matthew whimpered and lightly hit Gil's chest. "Sorry for that."

"Didn't hurt at all. Did he say anything to you?"

Matthew shrugged, "He just said we couldn't be together anymore. We were about to… you know…"

Gil's hands tightened around his body.

Matt continued, "…and he just started freaking out. He looked really scared and left. I just don't know what I did wrong!"

Holding him out at arm's length, Gilbert shook him, "You did nothing wrong! It's him, not you. Birdie… Matthew, you're perfect in every way. That man's a jerk! Ask anyone and they probably had a bad run in with him. He didn't deserve you. You're smart and beautiful and kind… Gott, you're so kind. You have the most beautiful heart, and I hate to see some douchebag destroy it."

Eyes wide in surprise, Matt cocked his head as things dropped into place. "Gilbert," he looked into his best friend's eyes. "Are you… in love with me?"

Shit. Shit, shit, and all the shit in the world pile up in a heaping pile of shit! What would Matthew think? Gilbert did come here to win him back. But he wanted to be the one to say it. Fuck being so fucking transparent! There was only one thing left to do. Cupping Matthew's cheeks, Gilbert leaned in and pressed his lips to Matthew's.

This kiss wasn't quite what he had hoped for. There was no romance in the kiss. Just desperation and force in the action like any good Prussian would do. But Matthew's lips were softer than he imagined. They were plump from crying and swollen from him biting his lips when he was upset. These were little details that probably only Gilbert and Gilbert alone had noticed.

He leaned back and looked into Matthew's eyes. He wasn't going to lie. He was afraid about what he would see. But there was no anger or hate. Those were two words, as stated earlier, that rarely left Matthew's lips. Knowing Gilbert so well, the shock passed, and the friends smiled at the same time. They giggled together both sounding similar to skittish girls.

"Oh my God!" Matthew covered his mouth and turned a shade of pink. He realized he was still in his friend's lap but he couldn't care. "How… How long have you felt like this?"

"Since I met you."

"That's so creepy! You knew me as a child!"

"Okay, you can say all the pedo jokes that you want, but Birdie…" he touched Matthew's cheek. "…I have always known you were special. I watch you grow up into the most beautiful man. I might not have anything to give. I'm not a nation anymore. Fuck, I live in my brother's basement. But that means I can give you myself and nothing else."

"Gilbert, I've never seen you like this," Matthew smiled. "I wish you were this sincere all the time and not 'awesome' or pretending to be."

"What do you mean?"

Taking his hand, Matthew gripped it hard, "I know that you tell yourself that you're awesome because you don't believe it. You're insecure and blame yourself for your downfall."

Gil couldn't deny it, but a lump still formed in his throat. This kid was had amazing perspective.

"I don't believe any of that though. I think you're strong. You didn't die after World War II like you were supposed to-"

"Because you appealed my sentence to the Allies. You saved my life."

Matthew shook his head, "But your nation vanished. By Nation People laws, you should have perished. But you fought through it and became East Germany. And when you and Ludwig unified, there were suddenly two German brothers like there are two Italian brothers. It was Nation Person history. You weren't allowed to the meetings during the Cold War, but we discussed it a ton. People were in awe of you and so was I."

"Is that why you came to visit me in Russia whenever Ivan allowed it?"

"That and you're also my friend. I was so worried about you. When I saw you for the first time-"

Gilbert clicked his tongue, "I don't want to talk about that."

"I know. I'm sorry." Matthew rubbed his shoulders. "I really am sorry, Gilbert. I wish I knew sooner. It might have worked. It probably would have work." He looked down and whispered. "I love you, but just not like that."

"I love you too, Birdie," Gil kissed his forehead. "And I want you to know I'll wait for you forever. You know where to find me. And Sadiq better hope he doesn't fuck up, because I'm stealing you."

"Thank you. For everything," Matthew hugged him tight. "And if Sadiq and I don't get back together, give me several weeks to wallow in food and tears. Then I might be ready to go on a date."

"That won't happen," Gilbert kissed his cheek. "You were happier than I ever seen you. I won't let him get away with this."

"What are you going to do?"

* * *

The heat in Egypt warmed Gupta's table, and Sadiq savored the feeling. For the last two hours, his head lay on the table and didn't move. How could he had left Matthew like that? It was for the best! It had to be. He couldn't take away Matt's virginity. He didn't want to turn that boy into a man. Who was he kidding? He wanted to plow into Matthew, make him whimper and beg, and make him come. But it wasn't for the lust. Sadiq had fallen in love with Matthew. He was perfect. Too perfect for a wash up old country who had no significance anymore. He wasn't even in the EU.

He regretted his choice from the night before. Once he got home, he had stared at his phone until he went to sleep. He had wanted to call Matt but decided against it. Someone else who was better suited for him would come along. And Matt would be happier. But it didn't stop Sadiq from feeling like crap.

A coffee cup appeared in his line of vision. Glancing up, he met Gupta's eyes. Sadiq shook his head, "I don't want any coffee."

"Get up. Go home."

"I don't want to be alone, Gupta," he licked his dry lips and shuddered. He had yet to cry in front of Gupta. It wouldn't start now. "I think I made a mistake."

"Fix it."

"Shut up!" Sadiq popped up and automatically regretted it. Pain shot through his stiff neck and he hissed. "When did you become such a big talker?"

Gupta rolled his eyes and took out his phone, "You should leave. I got a text. Someone is coming for you."

"Is it Matt?"

"No."

"I don't care!" He sunk back down to the table and rested his cheek on the heat. "Have I ever been this torn up before?"

"Not since Heracles had his revolution." Gupta crossed his arms. "Sadiq, get up. You're acting like a child. You obviously love him. Though, it would have been nice to know you were with someone. You didn't even tell me."

Sadiq lifted his face enough to see him, "Sorry. That was Matt. He was afraid to tell anyone."

"I knew you were together."

"I figured you did."

"You weren't that subtle at the last world meeting."

"Please, shut up and let me be."

Thumps sounded from the front porch as someone ran up the stairs. The front door was forced open, and Gupta hustled into the next room, "Just because you said you were coming doesn't mean you can barge into my house!"

The person must have ignored him, because someone was in the kitchen. They grabbed Sadiq's shirt and threw him on the floor. The Turk slid on the hard wood and gawked up.

"Prussia!"

"Yeah it's me, you sorry sack of shit!" Prussia snagged his collar and shook him, "What the fuck is wrong with you! How could you do that to Matthew!" His eyes flashed a deeper red than their normal shade.

"That's why you're here?" Sadiq was on his feet and shoved him off. "Leave me be! I have my reasons."

"Fine! You don't deserve him then," Gilbert turned away. "I'll steal him from you then."

Heat boiled up in Sadiq as he gripped his hands into fists. What was this cretin speaking of? He thought he could make Matthew happy! Impossible! "I won't let you have him."

"Why?" a cocky smirk crossed Prussia face. "Why should you have him when you can't even remember him?"

"I don't… What? What do you mean?"

Prussia looked to a very peeved Gupta, "Do you remember? You were there."

Gupta nodded, his eyes critically watching Sadiq.

The anger seeped from Sadiq as confusion set in, "What are you two speaking of? What am I supposed to remember?"

"Sadiq," Gupta spoke softly. "You were not drawn to Matthew's innocence. That was not the feeling you saw in his eyes. It was something else from a very long time ago. Prussia apparently remembers, and so do I."

"I don't understand."

"It's one of the many reasons I left you. I knew you would never be mine because of Matthew."

Sadiq touched his head. He knew they both spoke the truth, but he didn't know why. It was like far off déjà vu he couldn't remember. But it was in his mind whatever it was. It was the reason that Matthew was his and his alone. His eyes traveled to Gilbert. The Prussian watched him as well but with hate. Until Sadiq could remember whatever it was, this man would have a one up on him. He had to know, "Tell me. Please. So I can be with Matthew again."

But it was Gupta that answered, "No. You mustn't say anything Prussia. It's for him to figure out on his own. Sadiq must forge his own path and so shall you."

"I wouldn't anyway. He hurt my best friend." A new emotion passed over his features; it was one Sadiq had never seen on the Prussian: humility. "I'll help you get back with Matt. I hate seeing him like this."

Sadiq shook his head, "I don't understand. Why would you do that? Everyone knows you like him… except Matthew, but he never notices-"

"-anything that has to do with himself. I know." Gilbert ran a hand through his hair. "Consider this your only help from me. After that, I swear to Gott if you hurt him I will take him from you."

"Deal. What do I have to do?"

* * *

**Confused? GOOD! Please read and review.**

**Sorry if there are a lot of mistakes. I did very light editing on this piece. I want to try and update Vigilant and TCB before it gets closer to my mom's wedding.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello! Hello! Hello! I hope you're all doing well! **

**I DID IT! I got this out before 2012! Since this will probably be the last chapter of Northern Lights for this year, please let me be the first to wish you Happy New Year! Thank you so much for the constant support. I adore all of you!**

**So to share, my friend has been doing a lot of commissions for me. She's doing one or more pieces from every chapter of Northern Lights. She also has done some from my Hetalia/Pokemon crossover fic. Her finished pieces are here:**

**http:/ dreamer-of-midnight .deviantart. com/ (connect the spaces)**

**But she posts all the sketches on her tumblr. There's far more work there (and I'm a total sucker for sketches personally)**

**http:/ lunaatmidnight. tumblr. com/ (once again, connect the spaces)**

**Give her a shout out! Thanks again Tisha! I'm looking forward to chapter 2!**

**I do have some serious questions that I want to ask all of you guys. First, do you mind reading stories that have a lot of chapters? Or do you prefer stories that are broken up and shorter? I'm thinking about breaking up Northern Lights by plot arc so each one is self-contained. If I do this, the first plot arc would be over in a few chapters, and I would be starting on "Northern Lights 2." I know I personally shy away from longer fics unless the first chapter catches me. What about you guys? Split it or keep it one ginormous fic with easily has the possibility of hitting at least 50 chapters or more?**

**Second, between this fic, the Su-Fin fic that will probably start around the end of the 2****nd**** or beginning of the 3****rd**** plot arch of Northern Lights, Vigilant, and future other stories, all of these falls in the same canon with each other. I want to think of a catchy name to call this world. I was thinking "Realms" and then I thought it was dumb. This would just be something to stick in the summary so it would read something like "Northern Lights is a part of the Realms universe" and "Vigilant falls in the Realms universe" (I'm just using Realms as an example). That way it's easier to know it's the same universe. What do you guys think? If you have a better title, please share it with me. I would love to know.**

_In these author's notes, there are __**spoilers**__ for the end of __**Vigilant**__. Please be aware of that._

**Reviews! **

**~Everyone: About this letter "Q" in Sadiq's name… This is probably by far the most commented on thing, which is totally okay. There are two reasons why this letter is still here. First one is when I started writing N.L., it was still widely accepted in the fandom to be spelled with a "Q." About the time that the correct "k" came around, I already had several chapters of N.L. already posted. So, I thought of an explanation for this. Which brings me to my second point. It's going to be addressed in a few chapters. I promise you. There's a reason Sadiq still uses the "Q." It's a small, minor reason, but it's still there. Hang tight. You'll see.**

**~Everyone: You probably won't completely know what's up with the memories and what Sadiq is supposed to remember until the end of the second plot arc or the third. It might take a bit, but you'll have hints the whole way through.**

**~XxDamned ForeverXx: You know I didn't have a good way to start this chapter. Then, you told me that bit about the Prussians training the Ottomans. It fits so perfectly in the grand scheme of the entire plot that you don't even know! So this chapter is dedicated to you~**

**~Ninja of Thunder: Everyone should get a tumblr! It's a magical land where you have all fandoms at your fingertips and the internet is good!**

**~sadk was here: "**I'm glad that you don't use that overused and ugly accent some ppl make Sadık use" **I personally don't like to write accents. I feel like they're implied. For example, if Francis is speaking I feel like it's a given that he has a French accent. Also, I'm a bit dyslexic, so when people write in accents, it's difficult for me to read. I just avoid them all together, because I know I would butcher it if I try to write it. "**But drinking is not frowned upon much." **The drinking comments in my past author's notes were before I found this out. I've since been corrected and have tasted ****rakı**** too. My friend went to Turkey over the summer and brought some back. It was delicious! **_**"**__Many ppl's head canon about "Ottoman Turkey raped Greece when he conquered him" is a huge joke for me and hurts me." __**and "**__Authors tend to make Turkey look like a big asshole, forgetting that most of the Western countries did the same things and some in a much more crueler way..." __**and "**__I seriously wished that Canada would defend Turkey against the hypocritical claims of the others here." _**Okay, this is a plot point for the story. I agree that every country, including Matt, has done terrible things. Arthur had his Opium Wars with China. You'll see in my other story Vigilant what Germany did during the Holocaust. So on and so forth. To explain my head canon fully, I believe that in history it was a different time period back then so the Nation People acted differently. So when a country physically invades and conquers another country, it was in their Nation People laws to physically show that dominance to another Nation Person by owning them, making them work, sexually, whatever the winner felt like. For example in my head, France and England were constantly doing this to each other back and forth. To support the anime/manga canon, France is doing this to Germany after WWI with the Kuku clocks. **_*SPOILERS FOR THE END OF VIGILANT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED*_** This changes after WWII. The Allies are getting ready to kill Gilbert. Matthew thinks it's barbaric after the kindness he gave and danger Ludwig and Gilbert put themselves in to save Matt. So he makes an appeal to change this law. They consider it and let Gilbert slide. But the rule completely passes during the Cold War when the nations see what Ivan is doing to Gilbert, the Baltics, and the other nations in the U.S.S.R. After that, there's no more physical invading or working off system. The new thing is the political system that goes on today like the G8, United Nations, etc. It's how they decide things. **_*__END OF VIGILANT SPOILERS*_** And most of the chances Matthew had to defend Sadiq, he has used. When Gilbert doubted Sadiq, Matthew stood up for him. But earlier on, Matthew didn't know Sadiq well enough to defend him and was also nervous around the Turk. You know, I really appreciate your review. It's a big reason it took me a while to post up a new chapter (that and my participating in NaNoWriMo). It's not every day that I get a review that makes me consider redoing my head canon. **

**I thought long and hard whether I should rewrite Sadiq through the rest of the story. But at the end of the day, this is my take on the character. I'm sorry if in the future he doesn't match up perfectly to yours or anybody else's head canon. And I'm sorry if he's not completely accurate. I promise I'm doing my best with research, but I'm going to write my character the way I imagine it. I hope you can still like him in the future. Just to warn you and everyone, he's going to end up having a bit of a bad streak with Matthew. BUT it allows Gilbert to make his own moves. Thank you for your time in reviewing and I hope to see more in the future.**

**~Lovely: HA! Yeah, I think Gupta does talk, just not a lot. He likes to talk to people he's close with, but even then it's not much. The moon part was honestly one of my favorite parts I've written so far so I'm glad you liked it too! **

**~CanadianViking: Here's the new chapter! Give me my one shot please! *grabby hands* You're a mean, mean person! (Not really! Thank you!)**

**Toastergal: If you're referring to my Holocaust story, Vigilant, where Matthew is a POW in a concentration camp, then YES! It is me. If not, then sorry, I don't know. But I suggest reading Vigilant if you haven't, because it's Matthew's history. His background with Gilbert is much more elaborated there.**

**~XxAlysxX: I thought that's what you meant by planking. I just wasn't sure if it was another slang term for something else. Thanks for the explanation!**

**~French Canadien: Haha! You don't tell people not to translate stuff, because then they want to know what you said! But I don't mind it. I know I'm a slow updater. I'm a freelance writer in real life so a lot of my other projects are time consuming. I'm hoping to do better in the coming year and update faster. Thanks for the review!**

**That's a lot of author's notes! I'll shut up now. On to the story! Enjoy!**

* * *

Sadiq was against everything that awaited him on the other side of the door. He stood in the weird way on the front porch of Germany's house. The day before, Gilbert had burst into Gupta's house threatening to steal Matthew away from him. That ass didn't have the emotional capacity to date his precious lover. Though at this point, Sadiq still didn't think he could be with Matt either. He needed to work out his own personal demons first.

Behind the door, Gilbert truly was his best option for help. Sadiq might not be fond of the Prussian, but he was Matthew's best friend. He knew what made the Canadian tick better than anyone else even his family. Sadiq needed this temporary truce between him and Gilbert to work. Pretend it was like the old days. They might be separated by their differences, but it was nothing new with countries making peace pacts to get through the hard times.

He could hear Gilbert talking on the other side of the threshold to someone. Then, he heard the voice of Ludwig. Great! Ludwig was here too. The last time Sadiq had seen the German he had been raiding Ludwig's refrigerator for snacks. So many of his people lived in Germany that it was the Turk's right to have some of the food! It might as well have been his own stuff. Ludwig had gotten home earlier than normal and caught him lounging on the couch with a carton of ice cream. That hadn't ended pretty.

Sadiq turned away and paced back and forth across the porch. "For Matthew. For Matthew. For Matthew." Leaning on the rail, he looked down the cul-de-sac. Across the way was Matthew's house. The drapes had been shut tight for two days. At night, there were no lights on. Sadiq sighed heavily at how much of a stalker he sounded like. He hadn't waited outside of the Canadian's house mouth breathing like a pervert. He just noticed it going to and from Gupta's home. He needed to put up with the dumb Prussian today. There was no other course of action.

After knocking, Gilbert answered the door a few moments later. He smiled wide like he was greeting an old friend but suddenly changed his face to look nonchalant. "What's up. Come on in."

Sadiq stepped around him and stared at a glaring Ludwig. He was obviously still sore about their last encounter. "Hello. Thank you for allowing me in your home."

Gilbert stepped in between them and muttered to the Turk, "He's not allowing you. I said we were passing through into Berlin. We should leave now before he foams at the mouth."

"Right." Sadiq quickly hurried through the kitchen behind the Prussian. Popping out the back door, he gawked at the surroundings. It had been a while since he been in Berlin. "So what's this grand scheme that you have?"

"Okay, check it out. I was thinking about it last night-"

"You must have been up all night. I know how hard thinking is for you."

Gilbert smirked, "Oh man. My funny bone must be broken, because I heard you just make a joke. It was supposedly funny, but I didn't laugh. Poor, poor funny bone. I should get that looked at."

Sadiq chuckled despite himself, "What's the plan?"

Gilbert closed his eyes making sure all his thoughts were in order. "You need to embarrass yourself for him."

"That's the stupidest idea I have ever heard in my life."

He pointed to the Turk, "Look buddy, this is your fault! You're the one who fucked up with Matthew. Now you need to show that you're not too prideful to make it right. Thus, you gotta embarrass the hell out of yourself. Then be humble."

They stopped at a crosswalk and Sadiq gawked at the Prussian. As crazy as it sounded, maybe Gilbert was on to something. Maybe Matt would pity him in a more submissive state and listen to him.

"I hate to admit it though," Gilbert muttered starring across the street. "I think if you just showed up and apologized, Matthew would take you back." He sighed heavily and tussled his already messy hair.

Sadiq's gazed softened. It had to be hard on Gilbert. Everyone had always known he loved Matthew. He had waited so long for a chance to date him. Sure, Sadiq didn't want to lose to Matt, but he couldn't help but to feel a slight twinge of compassion for the albino. "You really love him, don't you?"

A small grin spread across his lips, "Yeah… I do… Matthew saved me. I owe him everything."

What was this? The summer sunlight glistened in Gilbert's white hair making it shimmer like polished silver. His eyes flashed deep crimson hues and outshined his pale pink lips. Something sparked deep in the Turk. It was a similar spark to how he felt towards Matthew, but it wasn't exactly the same. He furrowed his brow in confusion.

The crosswalk light changed, but Sadiq didn't move. He observed Gilbert take a few steps but stopped in the road. Sadiq narrowed his eyes as the déjà vu feeling seeped in like before. Had he forgotten something about the Prussian like he apparently had with Matthew? Closing his eyes, Sadiq tried to remember all his encounters in the past with Gilbert. There was a time when the Prussian's trained his army, but nothing happened then. Before maybe? A few times on his trade route, Sadiq moved through Prussia. He would travel with Gupta and Heracles-

Wait, there were other people there too. He couldn't make out their faces. Three other people were with them.

Squealing tires ripped him from his thoughts. Like an idiot, Gilbert still stood in the crosswalk. A taxi skidded towards him. Sadiq rushed forward and snatched his arm ripping him back. Gilbert tumbled on top of him as they fell to the sidewalk. The German cab driver shot them a few swears before speeding off.

"I think your elbow is inside my ribs," Gilbert grunted easing himself up. He glared down at the man under him. "What the heck was that for?"

Sadiq pushed himself up their faces inches from each other. "You were about to get his by a car! You're welcome for saving your life!"

"He was nowhere near me!" Gilbert's hand slipped under him. His chest pressed up again Sadiq's, and both men's eyes met.

In that moment, the spark passed through them both. Sadiq's eyes grew wider.

Gilbert propelled off him and held out a hand, "You remember now? It took you long enough to recall that Matthew stuff."

"Not him… you," Sadiq took his hand and stood up. But he held on and looked over the slender fingers. Yes, he knew these hands quite well. "You and I were… lovers at one point."

"EH!" Gilbert screeched and yanked his arm back. "What the fuck are you talking-" Suddenly, his eyes grew big too in the realization. "You're right. You and I-"

"That one time when I stopped my caravan-"

"And you and I were chatting trade deals-"

"You started flirting with me-"

"Excuse me?" Gilbert chuckled. "You were whoring yourself out to me."

"I was not!"

"Oh my God! We had sex!"

Both of them scrunched up their noses, "Ewwww!"

Sadiq held up a hand, "Okay, okay let me get this straight. We both had sex one night."

"It was more than a night," Gilbert appeared hurt. "It was several nights. How could you forget that?"

Sadiq stuck a finger in his face, "You DID know! You lying bastard!"

"Of course I knew! Apparently, I wasn't memorable enough for you!"

Sadiq shrugged, "Apparently, you weren't! Sucks for you."

Gilbert motioned up and down his body, "How could you forget my five meters of awesome?"

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Sadiq chuckled, "If you had five meters of awesome, you would be leaning. We would call you Tripod, and you would need another pants leg just for that."

"Forget it!" Gilbert's face twisted into more anger and hurt. "You can fix this shit with Matthew all by yourself!" He turned and stormed down the sidewalk.

"Oh Allah…" Sadiq hurried after him and matched his pace. "You felt something during that time, didn't you?"

Gilbert's cheeks flushed red, "You did too or else you lied to me."

Sadiq stopped him, "We were different people back then. We were teenagers, younger than Matthew! I would have told you anything if it meant I got sex."

Gilbert crossed his arms looking quite serious. "Fine. I will agree with that. I did the same thing. But other countries told me later that they weren't visited by your caravan as much as mine was. You came by twice a year. You would request to stay in my house. You requested to stay with me in bed. Why didn't you do that for other countries?"

Damn. Sadiq wasn't sure of why. He just started remembering those nights only a few minutes ago. But he did recall his excitement every time he crossed the Prussian border. He thought about how his heart would race when Prussia would ride out to the main gate to meet him. Their talks together were vastly different, but he adored the energy Gilbert expressed himself with. He amused Sadiq with his over the top bravado. They moved quickly past being trading partners. Why had they stopped? The time after that he recalled seeing Gilbert was when the Prussian trained Sadiq's army. They barely spoke then and avoided each other. Why?

Analyzing Gilbert's face, much had changed about him. He was a ghost of the life he once lived. But that light, humor, and awkward charm still lay within him. A tender look crossed Sadiq, "I was in love with you Gilbert. At that time, you were all I thought about."

The Prussian blushed so much steam might have exploded from his ears. He obviously had felt the same way back, "I met Matthew as a child shortly after that. All my focus went to him." He cleared his throat and motioned down the road. "I think we should continue to look for what we need, and like true men, never discuss this ever, ever again."

"Alright," Sadiq ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. What a wild day so far. But he saw the Prussian in a different light. He remembered and saw it now as they walked that Gilbert wasn't such an asshole as he pretended to be.

They kept fairly quiet as they continued. Both men mused over the realization that just happened. More memories flooded back from that crazy time in their lives.

* * *

_The great Ottoman Empire passed through the front door of Prussia's house. After they had set up a few towns over, Sadiq had left the caravan in Gupta's care with Heracles. He handed his overnight satchel to a maid. "I don't know what room I'm staying in."_

"_You're in my room!" Prussia boomed from the second floor. He leaned on the banister as a smarmy grin spread across his face. Tromping down the stairs, he took the bag from the maid. "Get out of here. I don't want anyone to disturb me tonight." She bowed and hurried away._

"_You haven't changed, and you still smell horrendous," Sadiq chuckled and glanced him up and down. "Don't you Europeans ever bathe?"_

"_I went to the bathhouse two days ago. I'm clean. That bit of syphilis that I had last time is all healed up."_

"_You're a disgusting man."_

_Gilbert whispered, "But yet you still come back." His voice purred like a cat, and he waved for them to go upstairs. "You must be tired."_

"_I've been ready to _**sleep**_ for a while," Sadiq followed him down the hallway. Seeing no one was around, he slipped his hand into Gilbert's._

_The Prussian laced their fingers together, "You're taking off that god-awful mask when we get to my room."_

"_Only if you kiss my eyelids."_

* * *

"What kind of store is this?" Sadiq gawked at the robes, wizard paraphernalia, and foam weapons surrounding him. "A Halloween shop? It's still summer. Isn't it a bit early for that?"

"It's a place where role players can buy costumes. I've brought Matthew here before," Gilbert led him towards the counter. "This morning I called ahead for them to pull the perfect items we need for project 'let's get you and Matt back together.'"

"I have to trust you then."

Gilbert approached the man at the counter and chatted with him in quick German. Sadiq didn't know the language well enough to catch more than a few words here and there. The man nodded and vanished in the backroom behind him. "Hey Sadiq, can I ask you something that I've noticed lately?"

"Sure, go ahead."

He pointed to the Turk's face, "You don't really wear your mask anymore. Why is that? At the last world meeting, you didn't wear it once."

Sadiq laughed and scratched the back of his head, "Matthew sort of convinced me that I didn't need it anymore. I've been doing my best to wean my way off of it. It's a surprisingly hard habit to break. I feel naked without it."

"Why did you wear it in the first place?"

Sadiq shook his head, "It's a personal issue. Maybe I'll tell you at some point. I do owe you for helping me out so much… That doesn't mean I'm telling you now, by the way."

"I picked up on that," Gilbert spotted the sales clerk return. The man draped a floor dragging black robe on the counter. Then, he placed two long, thin boxes on beside it. Though Sadiq didn't read or speak much German, the words _Star Wars Light Saber_ was usually the same no matter how it was translated on the boxes. "What the hell is this?"

Gilbert beamed, "How you're going to win Matthew back."

* * *

**Please read and review. Thanks!**

**Something to look out for from me is N.L. short stories. As I'm ending the first story arch, I'm looking back and realizing that there are a lot of scenes that I wish I had added. So I'm considering writing one shots to fill in those gaps. Since the Omake chapter wasn't the most well received, I might make the Omake chapters one shots so it doesn't take away from the actual story. Because a lot of side stuff will eventually happen like America and England starting to date, Cody and Francis, and eventually far, far, ****FAR**** in the future Scotland finding out he has a son and relies on Sadiq of all people for help. And many, many more side plots. But they all tie in with Matthew and Sadiq. I think this would be a good solution for the problem. Look out for those in the coming year. I'll still fit in Omake chapters when they fit, but other stuff I'll stick in one shots or short chapter stories. **

**See you in 2012!**


	16. What's Been Going On with Me

**Hi everyone! Sorry for the sudden hiatus. I promise it was accidental. A lot of things have been happening in my life. I suddenly have to move so I'm trying to get things packed. Once I get settled again, I should (hopefully) be fairly regular with updates again. Life happens and it sucks. Sorry for that guys! Thanks, though, for still sticking around with me after all this craziness. It means so much to me. Thank you.**

**I felt the need to let you guys know what's up especially those of you who have been with me for years. I adore all of you, old fans and new. You guys light up my life when things have been so difficult lately. So once I get moved in, you will have new chapters of Vigilant and Northern Lights. I need to rework Trainer, Coordinator, and Breeder. I overthought a lot of the battle schematics and made it tedious, difficult, and not fun to work on… which is why I haven't touched it in a year (OH MY GOD IT'S BEEN A YEAR!). I promise I haven't forgotten about you guys. I miss you all so very much! I just need to get my stuff worked out.**

**If you want to keep up with me, I have a tumblr over at http:/ geekygirlexperience . tumblr. com/**

**(just connect the spaces)**

**Thank you thank you THANK YOU for your patience. I really appreciate it**

**~~Yours truly,**

**~Hope**


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